


Drag the Waters

by ozzyj



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Discussion of Abortion, F/F, Miscarriage, Pregnancy, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2018-09-15 12:48:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 113,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9235904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ozzyj/pseuds/ozzyj
Summary: Regina's infertility potion didn't work exactly as intended; she can conceive a child - but will never carry to term. When, after Robin's death, the former Queen finds that she is with child, Emma Swan must journey into Regina's past, in order to save her future. The ladies learn a few things about themselves and each other along the way. (Slow Burn SQ).





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Author Notes:
> 
> This is my very first fic for this fandom and if I’m honest, the only story that I’ve been excited to tell for quite sometime…
> 
> Many thanks to BuzzyBee2212 for her beta on this fic – as a newbie to the fandom, I really appreciate the help!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own anything used from the Once Upon a Time universe and I will not be financially benefitting from this story in any way. I promise to put all of the characters back nicely when I’m done playing with them.
> 
> The Setting:
> 
> Set at the end of Season 5 *spoilers contained if you’re not there yet!*
> 
> Everything happened up until the end of Robin’s funeral, but instead of Hook returning from the dead - Emma left the Graveyard with Snow and headed to the wake. No actual Robin or Captain Guy-liner in this fic I’m afraid...the odd flashback maybe...but that’s your lot.
> 
> There will be some Outlaw/Queen and Captain/Swan thoughts and feels contained within – but this will ultimately be a Swan/Queen fic.
> 
> Het pregnancy involving Robin is also a plot thread.
> 
> If any of those ships/sitations actually offend you – then maybe this one isn’t for you.
> 
> As with most of my work, this story will be very dark in places, (hopefully funny in others) and it will be triggery – abortion, miscarriage are suicide are all discussed. 
> 
> Cheery, right? 
> 
> You have been warned...
> 
> Okie dokie...if I haven’t scared you off, let’s get this show on the road.
> 
> The title of this story I took from ‘Drag the Waters’ – by Pantera.
> 
> ‘In everyday life, there is more than meets the eye. To reach the depths of truth, we must Drag the Waters.’ - Dimebag Darrell

The breeze picked up as they turned a corner on to Main Street - the wind carrying with it ice-cold droplets of rain that somehow evaded Snow’s large umbrella. The teacher gasped and gripped the handle with both hands – trying to shelter them from the worst of it, but her daughter didn’t seem to care.

Emma continued her journey along Main Street, seemingly unaffected by the downpour - ignoring the calls of her mother behind her. She kept walking until she stood outside their destination – Granny’s Diner – where Robin’s wake was under-way. Emma watched them all through the window; her friends, her family – the mourners – all gathered to pay their respects to a hero.

To a man who would still be here, if it wasn’t for me.

“Emma,” Snow said breathlessly, interrupting her thoughts – placing a leather-gloved hand affectionately on her daughter’s arm. “What on earth; you’re soaking wet!”

“I don’t care about that.” The blonde muttered and kept her gaze on the window, on the back of Regina’s head - where the brunette sat in a booth opposite her sister.

“Emma,” Snow fussed – moving to wrap an arm around her daughter. “You’re going to catch a cold...”

“I don’t care!” Emma yelled, shrugging out of the embrace and fixing her mother with a glare - before turning her attention back to the diner and the woman whose world she had just crushed. Again. “None of that matters now.”

Snow followed her daughter’s gaze, and she sighed – a wistful smile touching her lips. “Robin’s death wasn’t your fault -”

“Like hell it wasn’t...”

“Emma,” Snow protested, “Regina doesn’t blame you. You’ve lost someone too... We should go inside where you can support each other - like a family.”

“You don’t get it.” Emma turned now to look at her mother, her expression pained, her green eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I got to say goodbye to Killian, and I miss him,” her voice cracked then, the tears falling onto her cheeks. “God, I miss him...” she looked to the sky, fighting back her emotions, cool rain water washing away her tears. “But I have a sense of peace, knowing that he’s moved on to a better place...” Emma straightened then and wiped at her cheeks. She looked back through the glass and this time, her eyes met the mayor’s though the rain patterned pane. “Regina will never have that.”

“Emma-” Snow began cautiously.

“I can’t go in there,” the blonde stated, simply – her eyes never leaving Regina’s. “I’m sorry.”

A cloud of white smoke appeared, taking Emma with it – and leaving Snow standing alone in the street.

xXx

5 weeks later

Emma climbed the stairs to the Loft and took a deep cleansing breath before knocking on the door. Snow and David were trying, she knew that - and she understood their need to ‘parent’ – but if Emma had to hear one more speech about the stages of grief, or the suggestion that she speak to Archie – the big vein in the middle of her forehead might just pop.

Her family (and Archie, apparently) thought that her spending all of her time in the big-old house bought for her and Hook was unhealthy; that it was somehow stalling the bereavement process. But the truth was, it was actually helping. Killian chose that house for them, he had circled it in the newspaper – Emma loved that house and everything it stood for. Why would she want to move out?

Emma Swan was comfortable in her own company – she didn’t need a horde of overbearing Charming's around her to move through the 5 stages of grief (or were there 7, she wasn’t really listening). She had this.

The new house would be a family home for her, and for Henry when it wasn’t Regina’s week to have him.

The blonde felt a pang of guilt in her gut; here she was, mentally preparing herself to attend dinner with her loving, supporting family - when she had no idea if Regina had any support at all.

She still hadn’t really spoken to the brunette since the funeral. To be fair, Regina hadn’t actively sought her out either, but now that Emma had started to come to terms with her loss, the guilt at not being there for her friend was gnawing away at her.

She should have faced Regina that night at the wake, she should have taken the onslaught of abuse and fireballs – everything she deserved – and offered to be there for her. That's what the saviour should have done – but when was the last time I actually saved anybody?

Instead she was cowardly – and now she had no idea how to broach the subject. 5 weeks was a long time….

As she finally knocked on the door, she absently wondered what stage of grief Regina might be at…

“Emma,” Snow smiled as she opened the door and pulled her daughter into a hug. “You don’t have to knock – this is still your home.”

“Thanks, Mom.” She shuffled in and hung her hat and coat up on the hooks by the door; the smell of home-cooked food making her belly growl in response.

“Hey,” David said as he moved to give her a kiss on the cheek in greeting. “How’s my favourite Daughter?”

“I don’t know,” Emma joked, weakly. “You’d have to ask her,” she looked around for her son. “Where’s Henry, did he come by after school?”

“Don’t worry, he’s fine,” Snow rubbed her daughter’s arm affectionately as she passed by her to tend to a pan on the stove. “He started his homework, then said he needed something from Regina’s to finish it; he should be back any minute.”

A sense of dread settled in Emma’s stomach; dinner tonight had been Henry’s idea – and now he had gone to Regina’s? The kid was up to something.

“You know he’s gone to get Regina to come to dinner, right?” Emma stalked forward, standing by the kitchen island; panic evident in her tone. “That the ‘I need something for my homework’ was just a ruse.”

“Well,” David shrugged while setting the cutlery out on the table. “That’s why you’re sheriff and I’m deputy.” He looked to his wife, “shall I set another place, just in case he can convince her?”

“Well, there’s enough food.” Snow muttered into the pan, before turning to face Emma, a hopeful smile on her face. “She is family, after all.”

“Oh my God!” Emma said accusatory, her eyebrows retreating to her hairline. “You were in on this!”

“Emma, you’ve got to face her eventually.” Snow reasoned. David came to stand next to his wife in a show of solidarity, that only worked to rile Emma more.

“I can’t believe this,” Emma pushed a hand through her hair. “I came here for a nice dinner – and walked straight into a God damned intervention.”

“We’re not ganging up on you, Emma.” David interjected. “You and Regina are going through some stuff and Archie said it would be good for you both if you just...”

“Stop talking to that Cricket about my life!” Emma yelled, just as the door to the apartment flew open. Emma turned swiftly, her heart in her throat - to see her son hanging off the door handle for support; gasping for air.

“Henry, what is it? What’s wrong?” Emma rushed to his side; her irritation at her parents swallowed whole by the overwhelming concern for her son.

“It’s mom,” the young man swallowed hard – his face red and sweaty; Emma surmised that he must have run the whole way back. “Something’s wrong! I couldn’t get in the house and I know that she’s home, her car is in the drive but I forgot my cellphone and-”

“Henry, slow down.” Snow appeared at Emma’s side – always the voice of reason. “Why couldn’t you get in the house?”

“Protection spell.” The teenager explained as he released the door handle and straightened up. “It knocked me back – the flash was purple - it’s one of hers...Ma, you’ve got to help her!”

Emma and Snow shared a worried glance; Regina would never lock Henry out of his own house – not for any good reason anyway. Before they could respond, Henry voiced their concerns as he took a step back through the open door and into the hallway.

“Please,” he begged, “I’m scared Mom might hurt herself.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short, fast-paced instalment this time, but chapter 3 will be up very soon.
> 
> Thanks to BuzzyBee2212 for the speedy beta, and for her patience at my overuse of hyphens :). 
> 
> Warning: Those triggers I mentioned in chapter 1, are contained within.

“You take Henry in the truck; I’ll poof and meet you there!” Emma yelled to David, who was close behind, as she rushed out into the street and disappeared in a cloud of white smoke. 

She didn’t wait for them to catch up – she wanted to get to the house before Henry. She had no idea  what she might find.

Regina wouldn’t hurt herself, would she?

When Emma appeared on the doorstep of the mansion, she could feel magic emanating from the door in waves. Her skin prickled with the power of it; Regina really didn’t want anybody coming in.

“Regina!” Emma called, as loud as she could, hoping that her friend would respond, would lower the barrier…

Taking a step back, she raised her arms and with everything she could muster she cried out as she channelled her energy into breaking the spell. White light flew from her finger-tips, sparks erupted over the seal, until Regina’s magic eventually let up and the forcefield fell.

“That was too easy,” Emma mumbled to herself, a sense of unease creeping up her spine.  
She waved the door open and entered the house; a protection spell of that magnitude being that easy to break-it could only mean that caster was weak.

“Regina!” She called again as she ran up the small set of stairs and skidded into the darkened hall. “Are you in here?”

The lights were all out downstairs, and her voice echoed around the walls. Maybe Regina wanted to create the illusion that nobody was home...or maybe she’s been upstairs all day?

Emma turned to see a sliver of light on the wall, emitting from a room on the landing and she quickly ascended to the second floor. Taking two stairs at a time, she powered through the door to find herself in Regina’s bedroom.

The room was large, a table lamp dimly lit the space – and in centre stood a vast emperor sized bed – which was unmade. Very UN-Regina like behaviour...but the brunette was nowhere to be seen.

“Regina?” She shouted once more, taking a step further into the room to check the other side of the bed, before she heard a rustling coming from a behind her.

Emma turned and followed the noise to a door that lead to Regina’s en suite and she gently pushed it open. The room was dark; the opening of the door spread soft light across the tiled floor, and Emma followed in with her eyes until a pale, bare foot appeared in her line of site.

“Regina,” Emma said breathily, pushing the door open fully; it crashed into the wall behind as Emma fell onto her knees beside the crumpled form of the Storybrooke’s Mayor.

Regina lay on her side on the cool tiles, next to the toilet; she was twisted up in her grey, silk night-gown – her head cradled in the fold of her arm, her other arm was wrapped around her midriff.

The acrid smell of vomit filled Emma’s nose as she leant towards the toilet pan and swept a curtain of dark brown hair from the mayor’s face – her fingers grazing clammy skin below.

“Regina!” Emma secured the brunette’s hair behind her ear and placed a palm to her cheek, which caused the mayor to stir.

“Go away, Miss Swan,” Regina said weakly and wrinkled her nose.

“Not a chance.” Emma said with certainty and a slight sigh of relief that Regina was conscious enough to maintain her usual level of sass. She rose to turn the light on and Regina winced. “What the hell’s going on? Are you sick, did you...”

As she moved back towards the brunette, she knocked a glass vial with her foot – causing it to roll across the tiles. “Did you take that?” Emma bent to pick it up and smelt the container – it’s a potion. Emma dropped to a crouch and pulled the brunette up roughly by her arm, “Regina!” She shook her, dipping her head to look into the other woman’s dilated pupils. “Regina, did you take this?”

“Ow!” Regina protested and feebly tried to wriggle out of the blonde’s grasp. “It’s not what you think-”

“Regina, our son is on the way over here now – so help me God!”

The mayor’s eyes widened at that, for a split second she looked absolutely terrified. “Henry...”

“Yes, Henry.” Emma snapped and released her hold, getting to her feet and letting Regina sag back against the bathtub. “Now tell me, what the hell was in this vial?”

“A potion...” She murmured, her eyelids drooping. “Not...it’s not what it looks like...I’m not trying to...”

“Kill yourself?” Emma finished the sentence for her – the words hanging in the air between them for a few beats, before the sheriff crouched down again. “You keep saying that,” the blonde spoke more softly this time – placing the vial on the floor and taking Regina’s face in both of her hands; willing her to focus. “Convince me, Regina. What did you take?”

“I’ve made it before,” she looked fleetingly at Emma, before closing her eyes and muttering. “Something must have…something went wrong...”

“Regina,” Emma pressed, tilting the brunette’s chin to encourage her to open her eyes. “Stay with me – what did you take?”

Regina opened her eyes, and looked up into Emma’s – a solitary tear rolling down her cheek.

“Something to kill Robin’s baby.”

“What?” Emma gasped, a deep frown creasing her brow.

“Mom!” Henry called from the landing just as Regina’s eyes lost focus, and her head lolled to the side.

“Regina!” Emma moved to shake her again. “Dammit – Henry, call an ambulance!”

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the second cliff-hanger folks! Chapter 3 will be up soon.
> 
> In the meantime, I’d really love to hear your thoughts :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks BuzzyBee2212 for your help with this chapter! Much appreciated :)

Chapter 3

Emma shifted her weight onto her other hip, trying desperately to get comfortable in the maroon ‘pleather’ tub chair she’d pulled up next to Regina’s hospital bed.

_‘Plushy mansion furniture v’s cheap crappy chairs used in public services...’ ___

__The Sheriff crossed her legs at the knee, precariously balanced her elbow on the arm of the chair, rested her chin in her palm and continued to do what she’d done for the past several hours – she waited for Regina to wake up._ _

__Emma knew she should get some sleep herself, but every time she closed her eyes, all she could see was the image of David carrying Regina’s limp body down the stairs, the paramedics laying her on a gurney and shoving a tube down her throat..._ _

___‘What the hell was she even thinking?’ ____ _

____It was Regina’s body – her decision - but getting rid of Robin’s baby, after she had just lost him... _why would she do that? _____ _ _

______The Sheriff had always assumed that Regina couldn’t have children of her own; the woman obviously wanted kids to have adopted Henry...and Graham...well, he was testament to the fact that if Regina wanted a man’s involvement in the whole baby-making thing – she didn’t really have to ask for it…_ _ _ _ _ _

_______‘Which is wrong on all kinds of levels...’ ____ _ _ _ _ _

________There was Regina’s marriage to King Leopold too...and Emma had met the ‘Evil Queen’ – she embodied sexuality. Surely that whole power/leather/cleavagy thing couldn’t have just been all a front? Like an armour?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________Like my jacket ____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________‘Maybe Regina just doesn’t want to actually ‘have’ a baby.’ ____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Emma narrowed her eyes as she looked upon the sleeping woman._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________‘She looks peaceful,’ she thought as she studied the brunette’s face – which tonight, was entirely devoid of make-up. Even under the harsh strip-lighting of the hospital room - to Emma, Regina looked younger somehow._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________The blonde rolled her eyes _‘even post-overdose, Regina is pretty.’ _____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________She got to her feet, shaking herself as she started to pace the room; feeling like she was infringing on Regina’s privacy by watching her sleep. Usually, whenever she cautioned a glance in the Mayor’s direction (when she wasn’t being ‘addressed’), Regina would instinctively know that she was looking – and stare right back or make a comment that let Emma know she was on to her._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______________‘Something I can help you with, Miss Swan?’_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________Emma smiled at that; Regina always kept her on her toes...maybe that’s why I find her so damn fascinating..._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________“Hmmph...”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________Regina stirred, pulling Emma from her thoughts and straight back into the room; she was at the brunettes side in an instant._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________“Regina?” The Mayor tilted her head towards Emma’s voice; her eyelids fluttered open briefly - before she winced and closed them again._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________“Easy, Regina.” The blonde said softly, placing a tentative hand on her friend’s arm, “You’re OK,” she soothed. “Just let me just turn the lights off...it’s a little bright in here.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________Emma moved swiftly to turn the bedside lamp on - and the overhead lights off - before coming back to stand by the bed. “You’re probably going to be a little sore...”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________“Understatement of the century,” Regina retorted, hoarse, slowly blinking open her eyes to a squint, before bringing her hand to her throat. “Water?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________“Sure,” Emma grabbed the plastic cup from tray that was attached to the bed. “Here,” she held the container and guided the straw to Regina’s lips. “They had to put a tube down your throat, so it’s probably going to hurt for a while.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________Regina frowned as she drew a long gulp from the straw, before resting her head back on the pillow and looking up at Emma for the first time. “What the hell happened?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________“You don’t remember?” Emma placed the cup back on the tray and sat down - perching uneasily on the edge of her seat. “You, erm...well, you put a protection spell on the mansion...” She offered in way of an explanation – hoping it would jog Regina’s memory - and it appeared to work; the confused expression on the brunettes face, slipped into one of horrified realisation._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________“Oh my God, Henry!” Regina gasped and moved to get out of the bed – but Emma got to her feet and quickly stopped her movements with a firm hand on her shoulder. “Regina, you have to rest...”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________“Emma, Henry came to the house – I don’t know why - I thought he was with you – but he - I felt the spell knock him back,” she looked up at Emma, panic stricken. “I couldn’t do anything to stop it...I have to go see if he’s okay!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________“Regina,” Emma clutched both of her shoulders, and the brunette stopped struggling. “Henry is fine!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________“He is?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________“He’s with my parents,” Emma explained as she shifted her hands to help Regina into a seated position. “He thinks you had the flu,” she stood back and shrugged. “I told him being sick made your magic go haywire.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________“You did?” The brunette asked, her hair falling in her face as she shuffled backwards up the mattress._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________“Regina, Henry is fine,” Emma instinctively moved the loose hair out of Regina’s face and tucked it behind her ear, before dipping her head to look into the mayor’s eyes. “Henry is fine, you are fine...” She contemplated her next words carefully, because looking into Regina’s eyes – she had never seen the brunette look so open, so vulnerable...but she took the plunge anyway. “Your baby is fine.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________Regina blinked slowly, her eyes searching the blonde’s face for a few beats, before the wall went up – and she turned her head to face the window._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________Emma hovered awkwardly next to the bed, unsure of what her next move should be. It was dark outside, and she knew that Regina couldn’t possibly see anything in that window, other than her own blurred reflection – yet the brunette didn’t move – she just sat incredibly still._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________Eventually, Emma broke the silence. “Look, Regina...”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________“I didn’t want to do it...” the brunette finally spoke, her voice was small – almost a whisper. “I didn’t want to...get rid of Robin’s baby.” She dropped her gaze to her hands and sniffed; it was only then that Emma noticed she was crying._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________The blonde pulled some tissues from a nearby box and handed them to Regina, before lifting one knee onto the mattress to sit on the edge of the bed. Feeling at a loss of anything else to say, she asked the obvious question. “So, why did you try to?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________The brunette inhaled deeply, then sighed. “It’s...” she tilted her head, her gaze still focused on her hands, where she absently fiddled with the loose bit of plastic on her hospital wrist-band. “Complicated.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________“When are our lives ever simple?” Emma said softly, with a small smile – and this time when the blonde spoke, Regina looked up and offered a weak smile of her own._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________Emma’s heart ached for her; she wanted to reach out and draw the brunette into a hug...but they just didn’t do that. Their relationship wasn’t affectionate in any way shape or form; it was based on a healthy dose of sarcasm and the occasional _‘well done man, you just saved Storybrooke again’ arm punch... _They were not huggers.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“Oh God,” the brunette groaned and looked to the ceiling – wiping away the tears from her cheeks. “What a mess.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________Emma suddenly wished her mother was here – she’d know what to do…_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________‘Hug her!’ ____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Nothing we can’t handle.” Emma offered instead - and soon as the words left her lips, she heard how dismissive they sounded. “Wait, I mean...”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________It could have been Emma’s awkwardness, her words or Regina’s insecurities – but in a matter of seconds – the brunettes defences were back up._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“We?” She asked, one perfectly sculpted eyebrow raised. “Miss Swan, my current predicament is a problem that you need not concern yourself with.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_____________________‘Oh, it’s Miss Swan again, is it?’ ____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Yet here I am, Madam Mayor.” Emma bit back. “Happy to lend an ear.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“And where might this ‘friendly ear’ have been over the past few weeks?” Regina asked, a fire in her eyes. “I don’t have much experience in this area, Miss Swan – but I’m pretty sure you escaping through the back door of Granny’s every time I entered, isn’t friendship.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Emma flushed and got to her feet. “How did you..?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“I can sense your magic, Emma; I don’t need to see you, to know that you are there.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Emma stared at Regina for a few beats, searching for a comeback – but she knew the brunette was absolutely right._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“You’re right,” the blonde conceded, nodding glumly and shoving her hands into her jean pockets. “I’m sorry, I was just having a hard time dealing with everything and I couldn’t face you knowing that I...”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Started a chain of events that catastrophically robbed me of my soul-mate?” Regina asked, “Again?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Yes.” Emma said simply and looked down at her boots. “I was selfish.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Yes, you were.” Regina said matter of fact._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Would it have helped though?” Emma asked,lifting her gaze to look back at the Mayor. “ Would you have told me about,” she gestured in the general direction of Regina’s abdomen. “Would it have made a difference?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Regina’s jaw tightened and she looked away again - and something occurred to Emma in that moment, that she should have thought of earlier._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“You still don’t want to keep the baby.” It wasn’t a question, but Regina responded as if it were._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“You wouldn’t understand,” she said flatly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Regina,” Emma perched back on the bed - her hand reaching out to touch the brunette’s arm, but falling short and landing on the mattress. “I’ve been there, I know what it’s like...”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Oh, I doubt that.” Regina, folded her arms over her chest and fixed Emma with a glare. “You had your baby – then you just gave him away.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“What?” Emma gaped at Regina – shocked by her sudden change in tone. She stood up, recoiling like she’d been slapped; it kind of felt like she had._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“You think that choice was easier?” She raised her voice, then stopped herself. “No.” She held her hands up in front of her in surrender. “You know what, Regina? I’m done.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Emma grabbed her jacket from the back of the chair and shrugged it over her shoulders forcefully. “If you don’t want to have your soul-mates baby, then it’s your choice – but just promise me one thing...” She pulled her hair free from the collar of the red leather jacket; staring angrily at the brunette. “Don’t do it magically this time. Do it somewhere normal, like, I don’t know – a fucking hospital!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________With that, she turned sharply on her heel - leaving Regina alone to seethe._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________TBC_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :). I hope you are still enjoying it.
> 
> Oh, and please excuse my medical ignorance. It has since been pointed out to me that after having a tube shoved down her throat, Regina would not have been allowed to drink water - and would have been offered ice-cubes instead. So, I was like ‘how would they still be frozen? Could someone else come into the room to bring some ice while they were talking? Do I reference them having being delivered at the beginning of the chapter?’
> 
> Then I just gave up and wrote this apology instead :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, thank you so much for all of your reviews, comments and questions – they are always welcomed. 
> 
> I feel like it is time to revisit the warnings/triggers that I mentioned back in Chapter 1 of this fic. 
> 
> **Robin:**
> 
> Let me start by saying that this is a SQ fic – it absolutely is - but I am writing this story from season 5 canon and I’m _(really)_ trying to keep with the feel and pace of the show. Near the end of season 5, Regina lost Robin – therefore to be true to her character at that time, I will acknowledge his death and allow her to mourn him. 
> 
> This fic has been thoroughly plotted in advance and the odd reference to Regina thinking about Robin is important to the progression of the character emotionally throughout the story - so I can’t change that now – I’m sorry. 
> 
> Yes, Regina is carrying his baby, but if I tell you now if she will keep it or not, it will just spoil the story. The pregnancy/baby **is** integral to the SwanQueenliness of the plot...does that help? :)
> 
> Anyway, I assure you that the references to Robin will become less frequent as we move through the story and I promise you – I’m not about to bring him back from the dead via a land of wishes. 
> 
> Warning: In this chapter there are references and one (very brief PG13) flashback involving Robin.
> 
>  **Triggers:**
> 
> This chapter was very emotionally draining to write and I expect that it might be a difficult read for some of you. Several references to miscarriage, abortion and stillbirth are contained within. 
> 
> On a positive note, this chapter is twice as long as the others and it answers some important questions that were posed by you in the reviews :).
> 
> Thanks to BuzzyBee2212 for your help with editing this chapter and to Mellow_Mel for the pregnancy science stuff.

** Chapter 4 **

Regina slammed down the lid on her wooden box of potions and with her hands on her hips, she closed her eyes, breathing deeply in an effort to clear her head.

She just couldn’t understand it; she had prepared this potion before, and with the desired effect.

The Queen had always kept a very precise log of her ingredients _(which thanks to Henry, was now on a useful spreadsheet)_ and she’d checked and rechecked everything that she’d used.

The potion had been prepared perfectly.

“So why the hell didn’t it work?” She spoke out-loud to the too quiet vault.

_Maybe it’s this world?_

She chewed the inside of her mouth contemplatively.

Maybe something had changed her? Maybe it was because Robin was her soul-mate?

_‘Maybe it will be different this time?’_

“No.” Regina spoke out loud, balling her hands into fists and starting to pace; the sound of high heels on cobbled stone, echoing through the vault. _‘I can’t take that risk...I can’t go through that again.’_

Many years ago, The Queen had discovered that the potion she drank to prevent her from ever giving birth to an heir to her throne hadn’t worked exactly to plan. In her haste to spite her mother, Regina had forgotten the most important rule; Magic always comes with a price. In this case, the cost was just too high – too painful.

_Never again._

Using a carefully constructed spell as birth-control had served Regina well for many years - that was until she and Robin followed The Saviour into the underworld.

_‘Damn Emma Swan and her idiotic crusade to save the pirate.’_

When they’d first arrived, Regina’s control on her magic had been inconsistent at best. At that time, with everything that was happening, getting pregnant had never even crossed her mind.

Regina felt her heart in her chest, a dull ache as she recalled that last night she had spent with Robin in the Underworld forest. How he’d held her against him as they moved, told her she was beautiful, told her how much he loved her…

_I miss him so much._

The mayor came to a stop and placed a hand over her abdomen.

_What would he think, if he were here right now?_

She looked at the empty potion vial sitting there, waiting to be filled. It taunted her incompetence, it beckoned her to try to mix the potion again…

_I almost died._

After Emma left the hospital, Regina had asked Whale to help fill in the blanks. He’d told her that she was unresponsive when she reached the hospital, that they’d needed to pump her stomach. It was both terrifying and humiliating, and the worst part was, Henry had been witness to all of it.

_He must have been so scared._

Just that morning, as she had discharged herself from the hospital, Henry had come to see her. He’d rushed over to her as she stood by the nurses station signing the release papers, and pulled her into a hug so fierce that she struggled to breathe.

_He’s getting so strong._

She’d hugged him right back, apologised, told him she loved him, told him that she wasn’t going anywhere...anything she could think of to take his pain away – _the pain I caused by taking matters into my own hands._

Regina had gone along with Emma’s half-baked story that she’d had the flu, but their son was too smart for that. She knew from his expression that he didn’t believe her; her own son thought that she’d tried to kill herself.  
_‘Is that worse than him knowing the truth?’_

And then there was Emma, who only knew a half-truth.

 _‘You had your baby – and then you just gave him away.’_ Regina recalled the hurt that had flashed across the blonde’s features when those spiteful words fell from the brunette’s lips.

Regina fought hard everyday to keep her past at bay, to bury the very emotions that had darkened her heart to begin with. She lived in fear of what might happen if she ever allowed herself to pay credence, to fully acknowledge that all of the pain that made her evil was still very present.

Emma had gotten too close, her questions had gotten too personal. The Saviour had tried to peel back that final layer of Regina’s defences – and the brunette had felt the pain bubbling to the surface.  
The Saviour didn’t know the dark places that being The Evil Queen had taken Regina, what lengths she had gone to. Emma didn’t understand. How could she?

Regina felt sick.

_‘Why do I keep hurting the people I care about?’_

The brunette looked at the vial again, before frustration took over and she lashed out. Waving her hand at the container, she sent it hurtling towards the corner of the room; splinters of glass falling amongst her collection of artefacts.

“Damn, Emma Swan,” Regina spat as she turned sharply to exit the vault.

_‘Damn her and her infuriating ability to get under my skin.’_

xXx

_Damn, Regina._

Emma stomped around her living room, gathering books and papers left by Henry on the coffee table and stuffing them unceremoniously in a nearby drawer. The Saviour was still seething from her conversation with Regina, still licking the wounds left by the brunette’s vicious attack.

_She didn’t even thank me for saving her life._

Emma swept into the kitchen and continued her aggressive tidying spree; the sound of cupboard doors slamming and crockery clinking was a welcome distraction from Regina’s voice in her head.

_And where might this ‘friendly ear’ have been over the past few weeks?_

The blonde stopped her assault on her kitchen utensils to take a breath. She paused; clutching the edge of the counter and resting her weight on her arms she closed her eyes

She was exhausted; she hadn’t slept at all last night.

She’d tried, but every time she closed her eyes, images of what happened at the hospital played out behind her closed lids.

_Regina looks small and fragile; she’s limp, like a rag-doll as they lift her on to the hospital bed. There are doctors and nurses and tubes and wires; I’m powerless._

Emma had felt sick with fear, sick with anger. She was angry at Regina for what she had done, angry at herself for not being there for her.

Of all the battles that they had fought together, all the epic adventures they had shared – when the brunette’s life was in peril - Emma’s concern had always been about Henry, about how losing his mother would affect him. But last night, Emma had realised it was now her loss she feared; she was terrified of losing Regina.

_I can’t lose anyone else that I care about._

The saviour wondered when that had happened, when that shift in her feelings towards the other woman had occurred.

Now her heart ached for Regina, for the pain that she must be going through to have come to the decision she did alone. Emma wanted to help – but true to form, the former queen had thrown the offer of assistance in her face.

_Regina doesn’t mean it._

Emma owed it to Regina to try again; she wouldn’t let her friend go through this alone.

A knocking at the front door interrupted her thoughts.

With a frown, the saviour crossed the kitchen to the foyer, and pulled a net curtain to one side to peer through the window at her visitor

“Speak of the devil,” Emma muttered, a little bewildered as she opened the door to find Regina standing on her porch, holding a wicker basket out in front of her like a shield.

“They better not be apples,” the blonde said dryly in greeting.

Regina smiled at her, but it seemed forced.

“Muffins,” she stated as she pulled back a chequered cloth to reveal the contents of the basket. “From Granny’s,” she added. “I know that you like them. Not an apple in sight.”

Emma raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest, admittedly taking a little enjoyment from witnessing Regina on the back foot.

“I’m trying to apologise here,” the mayor huffed.

“Regina, it’s fine,” Emma sighed and reached out, taking the proffered muffins and stepping aside to allow the other woman to enter her house. “Thanks, but if you’re going to bring me baked goods every time you say something mean – my ass is gonna get fat.”

“Maybe that’s my evil plan,” Regina sassed as she entered the house and Emma couldn’t help but smile as she shut the door behind her guest.

_She’s back._

“Can I take your coat?” Emma asked.

“I won’t be staying,” Regina responded frostily; her posture was rigid, as she stood, arms at her side – her fingers twitching nervously in her leather gloves. She hadn’t even moved beyond the foyer.

“Suit yourself,” Emma mumbled as she walked around her guest to place the basket of muffins on the kitchen table.

“What I mean to say is,” Regina took a step towards Emma, a stricken look on her face. “I don’t want to impose.” The brunette looked to the ground. “I’m sorry, I’m not very good a this-”

“No, you’re not; you’re horrible at it,” Emma smiled reassuringly, when Regina met her gaze. “But I appreciate the gesture.”

Regina smiled fleetingly, then clasped her hands in front of her and took in her surroundings.

“I love what you’ve done with the place,” she announced finally, with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “It’s very homely.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Regina, only you could say that and make it sound like an insult.”

“What?” Regina gasped. “I meant it.”

“I can always tell when you’re lying, remember?” Emma was pleased that the brunette at least had the decency to look sheepish. “So, can we please just skip the pleasantries and will you give me your damn coat?” Emma held her hand out expectantly; she’d had enough avoidance for one day – the saviour was going to help Regina whether she wanted assistance or not.

“Excuse me?” the mayor asked, aghast. “Is this how you treat all of your guest’s, Miss Swan?”

“Regina, look,” Emma took a tentative step towards the other woman. “As I just said, I know when you’re lying. You said something to me last night that’s been playing on my mind ever since – and it’s not because I think you were lying, but because I know it was the truth.”

“Oh really,” the brunette crossed her arms over her chest, defensively; raising both eyebrows. “And just what was that?”

“You told me that you didn’t want to do it,” Emma explained cautiously, bracing herself for a fireball. “You said that you didn’t want to get rid of Robin’s baby.”

“Emma,” Regina protested, weakly.

“That got me thinking, that there must a reason why you have to,” Emma took another small step towards the brunette. “So, I’m going to fix us some drinks and then you’re going to tell me what that reason is,” Emma held her arms out, palms up in the space between them. “But before that, you’re going to give me your coat.”

Regina just stared back at the saviour – her jaw tense, a deep frown creasing her brow. Emma wasn’t sure if the mayor was angry or upset, or both – but the brunette’s lip quivering was the first sign of her walls beginning to crumble.

Regina inhaled sharply and exhaled a shuddering breath, before silently removing her coat.

xXx

Emma felt a pang of anxiety as she poured boiling water into two mugs on the kitchen counter; it was a little early in the day for something stronger, but she sure felt like she needed it.

_It’s happy hour somewhere, right?_

The blonde knew she should feel victorious that Regina had agreed to talk to her; getting the stubborn brunette to open up was no mean feat – but now Emma had what she wanted, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she might live to regret it.

The blonde only knew fragments of Regina’s past; most of her knowledge she’d gleamed from the storybook, some from her parents and other snippets Emma had gained from glimpses provided by the Queen herself _(usually under duress - when it was relevant information to help in breaking the ‘curse-of-the-week’)._

What Emma had was ‘The Evil Queen - Cliff Notes version’, and she’d be lying if she said she weren’t intrigued to know the complete saga. Yet, there were parts of the queen’s past that Emma was hesitant to unveil; young Regina’s marriage to King Leopold, for one…

Snow always spoke fondly of her father, however Emma had noticed Regina bristle at the mere mention of his name. A young woman forced into marriage with an older man - that wasn’t the stuff of fairy-tales, it was the making of a nightmare.

_The making of an Evil Queen._

Emma took a deep breath.

_Suck it up Swan, she needs your help._

With that thought, Emma hooked her index fingers through the handles of both mugs and turned towards the sitting room.

When the blonde entered, Regina was stood staring out of the window; her arms were wrapped tightly around her waist, pulling her red dress taut around her shoulders – emphasising the tenseness there.

She turned around as Emma approached, and dropped her arms to her side with a tight smile.  
“Camomile,” Emma explained as she handed a mug to the other woman. “It should help you relax.”

“Thanks,” Regina answered softly, accepting the drink before moving to take a seat at one end of the couch as Emma lowered herself onto the other.

They both perched awkwardly on the cushions and stared forward; the silence was deafening.

Emma glanced at Regina out of the corner of her eye and thought she looked tired; even with a layer of expensive make-up, there was no hiding the dark circles under her eyes.

_Appears I’m not the only one struggling to sleep._

The blonde looked away and reached for her tea at the same time as the brunette; simultaneously, they raised the mugs to their lips, blowing on the hot liquid to cool it down, before their eyes connected fleetingly in acknowledgement of their synchronicity.

It was Emma that broke the spell, taking a slurp of the too hot liquid and Regina, lip curling distastefully at the blondes indecorum, lowered her drink to the table.

Emma shifted on the couch; she was growing impatient, and after a few more beats, she was ready to break the silence - but to her surprise, it was Regina who spoke first.

“Emma...there are things that have happened in my life that-” the brunette shook her head softly, dropping her gaze to her lap, before continuing. “There are things that I have done and things that have -” again she paused, contemplating her words. “- happened to me, that I do not wish to share.”

“Okay,” Emma shrugged

Regina raised her head to look at Emma and the blonde was taken aback at the raw emotion she saw there. “If I ask you, Emma...if I say I don’t want to discuss something - please don’t push me.”

Despite her earlier reservations, Emma found that in the face of it, she really did want to know everything – _warts and all._

“Regina, I,” Emma placed her mug on the coffee table and shifted to face the brunette, resting her right, denim-clad knee on the couch. “You know you can tell me anything.”

“Oh trust me, I can’t.” Regina said dismissively, tucking her hair behind her ears. “There are some thing’s that are better left unsaid.”

“Regina,”

“Emma, no.” The brunette said sternly and got to her feet. “Our family histories are...” she stopped herself and changed tact, folding her arms over her chest and raising her chin defiantly. “If you won’t agree to my terms, then I won’t tell you why I can’t have this baby.”

_Damn it._

“Fine,” Emma said with an eye roll, slumping against the arm of the couch and gesturing for Regina to take her seat.

“Thank you.” Regina nodded and primly sat back down on the couch, back straight, facing forward and clasping her hands together in her lap.

Emma waited for the brunette to speak, taking small _(quieter)_ sips of her tea, before finally, her silence paid off.

“I’m sorry for what I said to you, Emma.”

“I know,” Emma nodded her head in the direction of the kitchen. “You said it with muffins.”

“Muffin’s don’t really cut it, though do they?” The brunette turned her head to look apologetically at Emma. “It was an awful thing to say, and even though there is no excuse for what I said to you, I can only hope that what I’m about to tell you, offers some...explanation as to why I am so-” she paused, seemingly struggling for the right word “... _bitter_ , when it comes to the subject of-”

“Having children?” Emma offered.

Regina nodded, shifting slightly on her seat, angling her body towards the blondes. Her fingers found a loose thread on the couch between them, and they both watched her twist it round her slender fingers as she spoke. “Do you remember how I found out that Robin was my soul-mate?”

“Tink,” Emma answered without a beat. “She, told you about the lion tattoo - but you were too scared to go into that bar.”

“Right,” Regina answered wistfully, tugging on the loose head until she pulled it free of the couch. “Emma, I’ve wasted so many hours wondering what might have happened if I’d just gone in there...”

“There was that photo from the alternate storybook that Robin found,” Emma spoke softly and Regina’s eyes met hers. “You know what would have happened; you saw it.”

“I like to think that somewhere in that alternate universe, we’re happy together – Robin and I.” The brunette held the Saviour’s gaze. “And that I never-” she hesitated and dropped her gaze to her lap. “That we have children together.”

“Regina,” Emma scooted forward and placed her hand on top of the brunettes, that was still absently fiddling with the thread. “What happened?”

The brunette looked startled by the physical contact and an emotion flashed across her features that Emma couldn’t place, it was fleeting and quickly replaced with one of disdain.

“My mother.” Regina answered, before pulling her hand away to the safety of her own lap. “I made the mistake of telling her what the fairy dust had prophesied – and she decided to take matters into her own hands.”

 _Of course she did,_ Emma thought bitterly.

“She set me up with a man, who she told me was Robin – but it was all a lie and I saw straight through it.” Regina laughed sardonically and looked to the ceiling. “She told me that she had my best my interests at heart, and honestly, now I don’t know what to believe-” she sighed.

“Believe that she was wrong,” Emma interjected. “Regardless of her motives, Regina – Cora lied to you.”

“Even after everything she’d done-” the brunette continued as if she hadn’t heard the blonde, staring dead ahead at the wall, “With Daniel, forcing me to marry the King - that still wasn’t enough. I was still a disappointment.”

“Why do you say that?”

“She wanted an heir to the throne,” Regina explained, turning her head to finally look at Emma. “So, I...prevented that from ever happening.”

“You,” Emma’s eyes searched Regina’s, as she began to piece the puzzle together. “You used magic to-”

“I drank an infertility potion.” The brunette said matter-of-fact, looking back to focus on the wall. “Of sorts.”

“You...”

“I did this to myself,” she said flatly.

“But,” Emma frowned. “But, you’re pregnant.”

“Well,” Regina dusted invisible lint from her dress and got to her feet. “Not for long.”

“Does that not mean that the curse has been broken?”

“Spell,” Regina corrected, subconsciously placing her hand over her abdomen, before realising what she was doing and dropping her arms to her side and clenching her fists. “And no, it doesn’t.”

“Maybe it does,” Emma stood and took a step towards the brunette. “Maybe because you’re no longer the Queen,” the blonde said hopefully. “Maybe because there is no throne any more, the spell is broken.”

“No Emma,” the brunette shook her head, and stepped back putting more distance between them. “It doesn’t work like that.”

“But how do you know?” Emma pressed.

“Because I know, all right!” Regina snapped, holding her hands up in front of her preventing the Blonde from entering her personal space. “The potion didn’t work.”

“I don’t get it,” the confusion evident on Emma’s face.

“Emma,” the brunette sighed in defeat and wrapping her arms around her middle, she continued. “In yet another cruel twist to my tale, I will never give birth to an heir to the throne,” she dropped her gaze to her shoes. “ – but I _can_ get pregnant.”

“You mean...”

“The baby will die anyway, Emma.” Regina’s voice cracked with emotion; the first tear, wetting her cheek. “I’ll _feel_ my child growing and moving inside of me – until one day, several months from now,” she slid her arms outwards, so that both of her palms rested on her lower stomach; her voice was barely a whisper. “I just won’t.”

“Regina...I.”

Realisation hit Emma like a freight train and in that moment, without even giving it a second thought, the blonde moved forward and enveloped Regina in her arms – catching the brunette’s first sob as it rattled through her petite frame.

She wrapped her arms around Regina’s shoulders and pulled her towards her and to the blondes surprise, the mayor submitted, resting her head on Emma’s shoulder, her fists tightly clutching the material of the Saviour’s sweater.

“I’ve got to do this now, Emma,” she explained, her voice muffled by Emma’s sweater. “I can’t give birth to another-”

“Shhh, it’s okay. There’s no need to explain,” Emma soothed, stroking the brunettes hair. “It’s okay, I understand.”

But she didn’t; Emma didn’t get it at all.

The saviour felt sick to her stomach, she felt angry at the universe, she felt helpless to assist - so instead she looked to the ceiling, cursed whoever might be listening and thought – not for the first time – that Regina might just be the strongest person she had ever met.

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and I do hope that it wasn’t too upsetting (on both the pregnancy and Robin front.)  
> It would be really great to read your thoughts.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **  
>  Author Notes  
>  **
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks to BuzzyBee2212 for the beta. I didn’t need to have any hyphens deleted this time; Yay! I’m learning :).
> 
> Usual triggers for this fic apply. Oh, and this chapter has less Robin :).

****

Chapter 5

It didn’t take long for the spell to break, for the walls surrounding Regina’s emotions to be resurrected; the Saviour felt the mayor stiffen in her arms, before she gently pulled away from their embrace. 

Emma stepped back willingly, not wanting to push the other woman too hard; Regina had opened up her heart and the last thing the blonde wanted to do was to give the brunette a reason to regret that decision. She simply watched as the the mayor smoothed her hands over her hair dark hair – her fingers interlocking behind her neck for a beat, before she moved to cross her arms over her chest.

Not once did she look at Emma.

In that moment, the Saviour realised that it didn’t matter what she did or what she said – Regina was already knee deep in regret and sinking fast.

“Regina,” the blonde started.

“Emma,” the brunette interrupted, her voice still thick with emotion – her gaze trained on the wooden floorboards. “I’m sorry-”

“What?” Emma asked incredulously. “What the hell do you have to be sorry for?”

“I didn’t mean to drag you into this mess, I-” she shifted her on her feet. “I didn’t mean to get so,” she shook her head. “I should just go-”

“Hold on,” Emma took a small step sideways, blocking the brunettes path. “You didn’t drag me into anything, Regina. I asked you to tell me and I’m glad that you did.” She instinctively brought her hands up rest on the Mayor’s shoulders. “I want to help you.”

“Help me?” Regina brought her eyes up to meet the blondes and it was only then - caught in the intensity of the other woman’s gaze - that Emma realised just how close to each other they were standing.

“I mean,” the blonde looked away and took a step backwards, shoving her hands into the pockets of her jeans. “I mean that I’m here for you, you know,” she shrugged and now that she was more comfortable with the distance she’d put between them, regained eye contact. “If you need somebody to go with you to the hospital, or whatever-”

“You,” the brunette’s brow furrowed. “You’d go with me?”

“Of course,” the blonde said simply and she meant it.

Regina’s dark brown eyes searched the saviour’s face and it occurred to Emma that the mayor was probably expecting some kind of caveat to the proposal, so in the hopes of solidifying her offer, she pressed on. “So, what happens now? Do you need to speak to Whale to book an appointment or..?” 

“Oh, no.” Regina scoffed, tightening her arms over her chest. “That is not an option.” 

“But-” The blonde frowned.

“No, Emma.” The brunette shook her head defiantly. “Absolutely not.”

“But then what do you intend to do?” 

Regina looked away and the Saviour quickly followed her train of thought.

“Oh, hell no,” the blonde said resolutely. “You can’t use another potion,” she shook her head, bewildered that the other woman would even contemplate using magic again. “It almost killed you!”

“I know but,” Regina huffed. “Emma, I was the Evil Queen! There is just no way I’m letting my former subjects anywhere near my lady parts with-” she gestured south with her hands, “-pointy implements.” 

Now that was not the reasoning the Saviour was expecting from the brunette and despite the gravity of the subject matter, she couldn’t help but smile.

“Pointy implements?” She asked, her smile broadening when she saw a smirk twitching on the former queens lips. “Seriously?”

“You know what I mean.” With a trademark eye roll from Regina, tension lifted from the air around them and Emma felt herself relax a little. 

“We could leave Storybrooke?” The blonde said out-loud as the thought occurred to her. “We could take the scroll and get out of town, somewhere where nobody knows who you are.”

“We?” Regina looked puzzled. “You’d still come with me?” 

“Look, I said I’d go with you and I meant it.” Emma said with a hint of exasperation. “Look Regina, regardless of where you have the procedure, you don’t have to go through this alone.”

The brunette contemplated the blonde for several more seconds, her expression flitting between distrust and utter bewilderment, but in the end it was gratitude that won out. 

“Thank you, Emma.” Regina said, as she graced the Sheriff with her first genuine smile since she had arrived. 

The blonde couldn’t recall ever being on the receiving end of a smile like that from the brunette; Regina’s expression was entirely unguarded and it felt like a knot was unravelling in Emma’s gut, spreading warmth throughout her chest. The saviour was rendered momentarily speechless.

“So,” Regina continued, pulling Emma from her thoughts. “I should...” she signalled towards the front door.

“Um...okay,” Emma stuttered as she mentally shook herself. “Sure.” 

_Oh my God! Was I just staring?_ The blonde stepped awkwardly aside to allow the brunette passage to her coat. 

“I’ll have a look for a clinic on line,” Regina said as she grabbed her black trench coat off of the bannister and shrugged it over her shoulders, tugging her hair free from the collar. “Could you please text me the dates that you’re available?” The brunette paused, one hand on the front door handle, one hand clutching her gloves - looking at the Saviour expectantly.

“Sure,” Emma said, confusion evident in her voice as she stepped into the foyer; Regina was discussing their plans to visit an abortion clinic as if she were planning the next council meeting.

“Emma, please understand that I need to deal with this as quickly as possible,” the brunette added, but this time her tone wasn’t entirely devoid of emotion; her voice sounded tight, almost strained, like she was struggling to maintain her composure.

“Of course,” Emma said finally with a tight smile and Regina visibly relaxed before her eyes. “I’ll check my work schedule and get back to you.” 

The mayor nodded curtly, before opening the door, stepping out and moving to descend the steps. Emma followed closely behind to stand on the porch, but was taken aback when the brunette abruptly stopped and turned to face her. 

The blonde’s breath caught in her throat as Regina reached out to take her hand; her fingers were cool to the touch, and Emma felt herself shiver in response.

“Thank you, Emma,” the brunette tilted her head to look up at the saviour, giving her hand a squeeze for emphasis. “I’m not sure what I’ve done to deserve your kindness-” 

“We’re friends,” Emma rasped in explanation, her own voice now laden with emotion as she looked down at the mayor.

A small smile touched the Regina’s lips and she dropped her fingers to link with Emma’s.  
“Right,” she said simply, before releasing the blondes hand entirely and vacating the porch.

Emma was rooted to her spot at the top of the stairs as she watched the brunette get into her car and drive into the distance. Only once the vehicle had disappeared from site did the the saviour move, but instead of going inside to the warmth of her house, she sunk to take a seat on the steps.

The blonde pulled her grey sweater tighter round her body and looked across the street to the ocean; the impact of the last 24 hours washing over her like the waves crashing into the sea-wall. 

xXx 

“Emma?” The blonde looked up from her position on the stoop to see her mother approaching pushing Neil in his stroller; Henry was skulking a few paces behind. “Why on earth are you sitting outside?”

“Hey,” Emma said, hauling herself to her feet and dusting down her jeans; the pins and needles in her backside was confirmation enough that she’d been sitting there for a while. “What time is it?” The blonde asked with a frown as she descended the last couple of steps to greet them.

“Almost 1:30,” Snow said as she brought the pushchair to a halt in front of her daughter. “I tried calling, but you didn’t answer.”

_I’ve been sitting out here for almost an hour!_

“I’m sorry, my phone’s inside,” Emma smiled thinly and placed a kiss to her mothers cheek, before offering Neil a finger for him to grab. As Henry went to walk straight past them, Emma stopped him with a hand to the shoulder. “Hey, kid.”

“Hey,” he muttered sulkily as he shrugged out of her grip and entered the house. 

“He’s still worried about Regina,” Snow explained, her eyes glazing slightly. “He hasn’t said much since we collected him from the hospital this morning.”

Emma looked over her shoulder at the closed front door, guilt tugging at her heart. 

Thankfully only David had been in earshot when Emma told the paramedics Regina was pregnant; Henry hadn’t heard a thing. Under duress, after learning his mother was in a stable condition, Henry had gone back to the loft with his Grandparents and with everything that had happened since then, Emma hadn’t seen him.

_I think my Mom might hurt herself._

Emma recalled Henry’s words to her just last night. For the young man to have been carrying that burden on his shoulders, for him not to feel like he could talk to his mom’s about it...and then for him to have witnessed what he did. 

The Saviour knew that her impromptu tale about his mother having a bad reaction to Flu medication was paper thin, but she honestly didn’t know what else to tell him; they were covering fresh ground here.

How do I comfort Henry, without betraying Regina’s trust? 

“I’ll talk to him,” Emma said softly.

“How long have you been out here?” Snow asked, swiftly changing the subject - a hand coming to rest temporarily on her daughters cheek. “You’re cold,” she fussed. “Let’s get you inside.” 

Her mother returned both hands to the the stroller and Emma bent to help carry it up the steps - Neil squealed in delight as he was airlifted onto the porch.

“You’ve had company,” Snow stated, placing her coat on the banister and nodding her head in the direction of the coffee table where two mugs still sat from earlier.

“Regina,” Emma said, as she lifted Neil from the confines of the chair to hug him against her chest. “She came over to talk.” 

“Oh,” Snow said, a little surprised. She shifted her eyes to Henry, who had already found the basket of muffins on the kitchen counter, before looking back at Emma. “How is she?”

“As well as can be expected,” Emma answered flatly, wondering if Regina was aware that Snow and David knew what had happened to her.

_Does she even remember David carrying her down the stairs to the paramedics?_

“Your father called me from the hospital; I was so worried. Why would she ever do such a thing...”

“Why would who do what?” Henry asked, entering the foyer and taking a bite out of a muffin.

“None of your beeswax, buddy,” Emma answered, without missing a beat. “And don’t have any more of those – you’ll spoil your dinner.”

“You cooked?” Henry said, screwing his face up. 

“Hey,” Emma mocked offence, then internally contemplated the contents of her fridge. “We’ll order in.”

“Can we invite Mom over?” Henry said hopefully, his green eyes devoid of their usual brightness; Emma noticed then how tired he looked.

“Your Mom needs her rest, kid.”

“Right,” he snarked, his expression oozing ‘teenager’. “Because she has _flu._ ” Henry air-quoted the last word and Emma’s stomach tensed as he moved past her and headed upstairs. She braced her self for the door to slam, and even though it was expected, she still jumped.

“Seriously?” The Saviour scowled at her mother. 

“I thought he was still in the kitchen,” Snow explained, directing a guilt laden look at her daughter.

“Aren’t teachers supposed to have eyes in the back of their heads or something?” Emma muttered as she promptly handed Neil back to their mother and stomped into the sitting room to collect the mugs from the table. 

“I’m sorry,” Snow followed Emma, resting the baby on her hip. 

“I know,” Emma turned back to face Snow, pausing next to the coffee table, mugs in hand. “It’s just, he doesn’t know what happened,” she shrugged. “I honestly don’t know if Regina wants him to...”

“It is a lot for a teenager hear,” Snow contemplated. “But Emma, despite what you’ve told him, Henry thinks Regina tried to kill herself and that’s got to be worse than the truth, right?”

“It’s not my decision to make,”

“You’re his mother.”

“We’re both his mothers.” 

Snow sighed defeatidly. “She didn’t even drink her tea,” she observed absently, looking at the full mug with a forlorn expression before continuing in a whisper. “I can’t believe she’s pregnant.”

Emma inhaled deeply, her grip tightening around the handles of the mugs she held. “Mom,”

“I didn’t even know that she could have children,” Snow kept going, as if Emma’s comment had fallen on deaf ears. “She must have used magic of some kind. You know contraception wasn’t readily available in the enchanted forest – and from what I hear the Queen had a lot of...”

“Mom!” Emma interrupted her ramblings, cold tea splashing from the mugs onto her hands. “Please! This is Regina’s business and she’s fragile right now, don’t meddle.”

Hurt flashed in the brunette’s eyes. “I’m not meddling, Emma I...” Snow sighed and adjusted Neil on her hip. “Despite our past,” she frowned. “Or I don’t know, maybe because of it - I love Regina and I’m worried about her.”

Emma’s expression softened then, unshed tears filling her eyes; she forgot sometimes how far they’d come. “Me too.” 

Snow’s gaze danced over her daughters features, a slight frown creasing her brow and Emma sniffed, straightening her back before she heading into the kitchen. “I’m worried about her too,” the blonde added, suddenly feeling exposed under her mother’s scrutiny. 

She placed the mugs in the sink and wiped the spilled tea off of her hands with a tea-towel, before turning back around to face her mother. “She’s tough though, you know?” Emma said, resting back on the counter. “She’ll be okay.” 

“After Robin died,” Snow moved to sit at the head of kitchen table, holding Emma’s squirming brother on her knee. “I was worried that she might go off the deep end,” she winced at her own words. “I felt bad for thinking it, I mean when you consider how far she’s come...but after what happened with Daniel-”

“I did too,” Emma responded honestly. “I think that was partly the reason I was avoiding her,” she looked to the ceiling, collecting her thoughts. “I thought I’d make things worse somehow,” the blonde huffed. “I should have been there for her...”

“Emma, you lost someone too,” Snow smiled sadly. “You both needed the time to grieve.”

“I guess,” Emma muttered, internally acknowledging just how easily they now fell into mother/daughter mode. 

“And you can still help her now,” Snow smiled a little brighter.

 _Oh, here comes the hope speech._

“She chose to come and speak to you, Emma” Snow reasoned, raising her eyebrows. “And that’s entirely uncharacteristic.” Snow chortled, humourlessly. “If I know one thing about Regina, it’s that she lets things fester.”

“You have a point there,” a small smile tugged at Emma’s lips. 

Snow sighed and lifted Neal to stand on her lap, bouncing him on her knees; her son’s face lit up and the expression was reflected on hers temporarily, before it faded and she brought her gaze back to Emma. “Did Regina tell you why she tried to...” 

“Yes,” Emma nodded, her eyes dropping to focus on her socked feet. “But I won’t betray her confidence.”

“Emma,”

“Look,” the Saviour levelled her mother with a stern gaze. “Unless Regina comes to you first – please promise me that you won’t approach her on this.”

“But,”

“Promise me,” Emma pleaded and stepped forward, clutching the back of a dining chair on the opposite side of the table to where her mother sat. “All you need to know is that her situation is – it’s complicated, okay.” The blonde’s expression twisted with concern. “Mom, Regina is really hurting right now and if you truly care about her, you’ll just let it be.”

“Okay,” Snow physically deflated, reluctantly conceding. “Unless Regina approaches me first, I promise, my lips are sealed.” 

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :).


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Notes: Thanks to Buzzybee2212 for the fabulous beta work and character advice

At 108 Mifflin Street, Regina stood in the entrance to her ensuite and swept her gaze over the sight before her. Her dark grey, Roberto Cavalli towels haphazardly littered the floor and a discarded glass vial lay near the base of the toilet.  
 _The last time I was in this room…_

The brunette closed her eyes briefly and inhaled slowly in an effort to centre herself, before entering the room – but as she bent to pick the vial from the tiled floor, the stench of stale bile from the toilet assaulted her senses. The former Queen recoiled with a gag, before slamming down the toilet lid and flushing away the offensive reminder of what had happened – silently wishing that the repercussions of her actions last night were that easy to dispose of.

She dropped the vial into the waste-paper basket next to the toilet and turned towards the sink; clutching the cool porcelain with both hands, she stared at her reflection in the mirror.

The Mayor looked drained; dark circles still took residence under her eyes, her complexion was sallow, her hair, limp and lifeless.

Regina concentrated on her features in the mirror, breathed deeply and waved her hand slowly over her face - but nothing changed. The potion that had literally drained the life from her, had taken with it her energy to perform even a simple transformation spell.

She sighed heavily and clutched the sink again for balance; it was pointless. Her body ached for her to take rest, to recoup, yet her mind was a hive of activity...all thanks to the actions of one Emma Swan.

Regina’s lids fluttered closed as in her mind’s eye she conjured the moment Emma had held her in her arms. The blonde had cradled the brunette’s head on her shoulder, stroking her hair to soothe her pain - and for the briefest of moments, it had actually worked.

For the first time in forever, Regina didn’t feel the full weight of her burdens; she’d felt lighter somehow, sensed a thawing in her chest.

_Just by being held._

Apart from where Henry was concerned, Regina wasn’t much of a ‘hugger’, which meant she had absolutely no basis for comparison. Whether her reaction to the comfort offered by Emma was due to their magical connection, or simply because of an emotional response, it was one that was entirely alien to the brunette and it left her puzzled.

The Mayor opened her eyes, a crease starting to form between her brows.

She and Emma spent so much of their time together fighting battles to save people (or each other) and as fate would have it, at least one of them was always going through some kind of emotional turmoil. Yet despite all that, even though they were now apparently friends, it occurred to Regina that until these past few days, the women had seldom touched at all.

_Is that strange?_

The doorbell sounding downstairs interrupted her thoughts and the line between her eyebrows grew deeper, before curiosity got the better of her and she turned and headed downstairs.  
“Oh, it’s you.” Regina said flatly, filling the space between the open door and it’s frame – hoping that her visitor would take the hint and leave her in peace.

“Well hello to you too! Is that any way to speak to your sister?” Zelena, of course, ignored Regina’s not so subtle hint and pushed past her into the lobby with baby Robyn in a carrier at her side. “We have a lunch date, remember?”

Regina sighed, and closed the door. Of course they did. With everything that had happened in the past 24 hours, her lunch arrangements with the Wicked Witch of the West had entirely slipped her mind.

“You forgot, didn’t you?” Zelena pouted and placed Robyn’s carrier on the floor in the entrance hall as Regina turned to face her.

“I’m sorry, Zelena,” Regina said sincerely. “I-”

“Good God!!” The taller woman exclaimed, as she narrowed her eyes to look at her sister properly for the first time since her arrival. “What the hell happened to you? You look bloody awful!.”

“Well,” Regina scoffed, taken slightly aback “thank you very much,” she folded her arms over her chest. “If you must know, I’ve not been feeling quite myself.”

“Oh God,” Zelena wrinkled her nose. “You’re not sick are you?” She took as step back from her sister. “Because really I’m not good with sick people.”

_Shocking._

“Zelena, your concern for me is overwhelming,” Regina retorted with a healthy dose of sarcasm. “But no, I,” she sighed. “I just feel a little out of sorts, that’s all.”

“Phew,” Zelena relaxed with a grin. “Then what you need little sister, is some girl time!”

Regina smiled thinly and looked down at baby Robyn, who was watching them both intently from her carry cot with wide blue eyes.

“But first,” Zelena continued as she turned to walk further into the house. “I must use your loo; my bladder really isn’t what it used to be...”  
As Zelena left in search of the downstairs cloakroom, Robyn started to fuss and Regina instinctively crouched down to distract her.

“Hi there,” she spoke in a singsong voice as she unbuckled the clasp that secured Robyn and pulled the infant from the confines of the straps. “Come here,” she cooed as she rose to a stand. “Mommy will be back in a few minutes...”

She bobbed the infant up and down gently, before removing her nieces woollen hat and placing a kiss to the soft hair on her temple - inhaling the powdery baby smell.

The feeling of nostalgia instantly washed over Regina, and it was over-powering. She vividly recalled Henry being so small; images of holding him in her arms filtered through her mind. How he had saved her, how simply having Henry in her life had finally helped quash some of the anguish she felt over the loss she had suffered by her own hand.

_A loss I will suffer again._

Regina hugged her niece to her chest and rested her cheek against the infant’s head.

_My niece, Zelena’s baby...Robin’s baby._

It was all too much.

“Regina,” Zelena said softly, startling the brunette; looking almost apologetic for catching her sister in such a private moment.

It was only then that Regina noticed that she’d been crying.

“Don’t,” she said sternly before wiping at her eyes and passing Robyn back to her mother; she’d done more than enough sharing for one day.

_Damn pregnancy hormones._  
“Are you okay?” This time there was genuine concern in the redheads expression.

_God, if she’s concerned about me, I must look really pathetic._

“Zelena, please,” Regina struggled to keep emotion from her tone. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“But you know you can talk to me,” the taller woman pushed. “We’re sisters.”

“Trust me,” Regina sneered, anger rising in her gut. “You are the last person I want to talk to about what I’m going through right now.”

“Well that’s just bloody charming, that is!” Zelena spat and Robyn started to whimper. “After all that we’ve been through!”

“All that we’ve-” Regina’s eyebrows retreated to her hairline. “Are you insane? Zelena since I have known you, you have done the exact opposite of prove to me that you can be trusted.”

“Well, excuse me for caring!” Zelena fumed as Robyn’s whimpering developed into a full scaled wail. “My daughter and I will leave you to wallow in your own self pity instead then, shall we?”

“Zelena, wait-” Regina tried, but it was too late; with a wave of her free hand, Zelena disappeared in a cloud of green smoke.  
Regina pinched the bridge of her nose, as a few seconds later in her peripheral vision, she saw empty carry cot disappear too.

“Well,” the mayor sighed and looked to the ceiling. “That went well.”

XxX

Across town, the Saviour was dealing with a tough situation of her own.

She slowly ascended the stairs to Henry’s room, a sense of dread making her legs feel heavy and her limbs weak; the Saviour knew that her son had every right to be pissed at her – but she still had no idea what to say to him.

_It’s not my place to tell him what happened._

Emma reached the top step and took stock outside of his room and raised her hand- but before she could even knock, she heard his voice through the closed door and she jumped.

“I don’t want to talk to you,”

_Jesus, kid._

“Henry,”  
“Go away,” came the quick response and honestly, Emma considered it.

“I can’t,” she eventually said with a sigh. “We need to talk about what you said earlier.”

Silence.

“We need to talk about your Mom.”

More silence.

“I’m coming in,” Emma said gripping the door handle, having learnt the hard way in foster care not to walk into a teenage boy’s bedroom unannounced.

As she tentatively entered the room, Henry dramatically spun on the bed so that he was facing the wall.

“I said I don’t want to talk to you.”

_Ah, the teenage years._

“Kid, listen,”

“I’m not a kid any more,” Henry shouted, but it was muffled by his pillow, so he glanced over his shoulder scornfully at Emma, his cheeks flushed. “Why does everybody still keep treating me like I’m ten?”

“Henry,”

“No Mom,” He sat up quickly and turned, bringing the pillow with him and resting it on his lap. “I know that Mom doesn’t have flu – I’m not an idiot.”

“I know that,” Emma sank to perch on the edge of his bed, tucking her hair behind her ears. “I’m sorry I lied to you-”

“Then why did you?” He demanded.

“Because what happened last night is,” Emma tilted her head to one side in the hope of dislodging a word she could use. “...complicated.”

_Oh, well that explains it._

“So you do think I’m an idiot.” Henry snapped.

“No, I don’t,”

“I know what she tried to do,”

“No,” Emma shook her head. “You don’t.”

“She was upset and alone and she tried to kill herself,” tears welled in his eyes. “People do that, I looked it up.”

“Henry,” Emma reached forward and placed a hand on his knee – pleased when he didn’t pull away. “Why didn’t you speak to me when you were scared that she’d do something like that?” Emma asked bewildered. “You didn’t have to ask Google - you know you can always talk to me.”

“I tried.” He protested. “I kept trying to get you to spend time with her – but you kept making excuses.”

Guilt gripped at Emma’s insides as she recalled exactly that.

“Henry. God! If I’d known that you thought...that-”

“You were sad too, Mom,” he looked down at the pillow. “I guess I just didn’t want to give you any more to deal with.”

Emma’s heart swelled in her chest; with everything he had been through - how had they still managed to raise such a loving, well adjusted boy?

She squeezed his knee. “You are my priority.”

He raised his gaze to meet hers, a frown on his brow.

“Regardless of what is going on in my life Henry, your concerns, your worries – they are my priority.” She shifted her hand to rest it on his shoulder. “And that goes for your Mom too,” Emma paused when she saw hurt flash across his features. “Henry, it’s not my place to tell you what’s been going on.”

“But why?”

“Your Mom will explain it to you, but you have to give her some time.” Emma held up her free hand as he started to protest. “I can tell you that your mother absolutely did not try to kill herself. She would never do that to you.”

“She didn’t?” His voice was small, and all of a sudden in Emma’s eyes he was ten again.

“I really wish I could tell you,” she dropped her hand from his shoulder to her side – a smile tweaking at her lips. “But we all know what happens when a member of my family spills a secret of your mothers.”

It was a weak joke, Emma knew – but his lips twitched into a smile all the same.  
“Look,” Emma got to her feet, already feeling much lighter. “I’m going to order a pizza, why don’t you give your mom a call and invite her to meet us for breakfast at Granny’s tomorrow?” Emma smiled encouragingly. “I’m sure she’d love to hear from you.”

“Okay,” he said as he clambered off of the bed to grab his cellphone from the dresser. “What time shall I say?”

“How about seven?” Emma called over her shoulder as she left the room, closing the door behind her.

“Extra pepperoni please!” She heard him yell through the closed door as she descended the stairs and the blonde smiled as she gave herself an internal pat on the back.

_Good parenting, Emma. Well done._

XxX

Later that night, when Henry was in bed, the Saviour sat slouched in the centre of her couch nursing a warm beer.

The blonde shifted to stretch her legs and popped open the top button on her jeans, sighing as it offered some relief from the affects of eating too much pizza.

Emma felt restless; she had spent the past thirty minutes channel surfing, but nothing grabbed her attention for long before her thoughts turned to Regina.

She wondered how the other woman was doing. Had she managed to get some sleep? Was she stressing about what had happened? Did she regret telling Emma? Was she worried about telling Henry?

Emma sighed heavily and sat up a little straighter, resting the beer bottle between her legs on the couch. She glanced at her phone on the coffee table and contemplated sending a text message.

_That’s what friends do._

Taking a swig of her beer, Emma swiped her cell-phone off of the table and opened the thread between Regina and herself. Settling back into the couch, she scrolled languidly over the screen with her thumb, scanning the odd message as she went. Most were practical and of the ‘I’ll drop Henry off at 8’ variety, but there was the odd message that spoke of the burgeoning friendship between the two women – or at least of the sense of humour they shared.

Emma smirked as she passed a group of messages from a few months ago where Regina had berated her on the appropriate use of grammar. In truth, the blonde turned up the text-speak when communicating with the brunette, simply because she knew it got under her skin.

_Friends do that, right?_

As the blonde neared the bottom of the message thread, she started to notice a significant drop in pleasantries; the messages reverted to be of an ‘all business’ nature and the frequency was minimal – although there was one message caught Emma’s eye...

The blonde sat up straight and placed her bottle on the coffee table, clutching her phone with both hands. In between two messages dictating Henry’s collection and drop off times, was a simple message from Regina that read:

Emma, are you awake?

The Saviour frowned and looked at the date and time; it was from just three days ago, about 1am.

_How the hell did I miss that?_

The message was followed several hours later with a curt:

I’m dropping Henry off an hour early; I have errands to run.

Emma certainly remembered _that_ message; she recalled rolling her eyes and thinking _‘how nice it was to be asked’_ , but she had entirely missed the text previous.

The blonde felt an uneasy feeling settling in her stomach.

What if Regina had being checking if she was awake, because she had needed to talk?

_She must think I ignored her._

The blonde looked at the time on her phone 11:45.  
 _What if she needs to talk now?_

“Fuck it,” she muttered under her breath, before flicking to the contacts page and dialling Mayor Mill’s number.

xXx

Regina lay on her side, staring at the clock on her bedside table; it’s ticking a constant reminder that she was yet to get some sleep. She’d tried to magic it away, but her reserves were still down; the former Queen was currently contemplating throwing it across the room.

The brunette had been tossing and turning for nearly two hours now, achieving nothing other than getting herself more and more agitated. Her legs felt restless, like she couldn’t keep them still and her mind was abuzz.

Tomorrow she would have breakfast with Emma and Henry.

After the conversation she’d had with her son earlier, it was pretty clear to Regina that he expected her to tell him the truth about why she was rushed into hospital.

_What if he doesn’t understand?_

Feeling the need to move her legs again, the brunette turned onto her back with a sigh. The room was cloaked in darkness, other than a slither of moonlight that slipped between the curtains - it created shadowy patterns across ceiling.

Regina squinted; one of the shapes looked a little like a swan.

A buzzing from her bedside table drew her attention to her cellphone, and she rolled back onto her side to grab it.

_Emma?_

“Miss Swan,” she answered flatly, edging up the bed to a seated position. “Have you any idea what time it is?”

“Sorry,” the blonde answered sounding a little sheepish. “Did I wake you?”

“No,” Regina conceded, resting back against the pillows and rearranging her silk pyjama top that had gotten twisted. “I can’t sleep actually; I don’t seem to be able to get comfortable.”

“It’ll be the hormones,” Emma said, before swiftly back-peddling. “I mean, sleep will come, you know?”

“It’s okay, Emma,” Regina soothed, feeling sorry for the other woman. “You can mention it’s a relief to be able to talk about it actually.”

“Okay,” Emma paused for a few beats; it sounded to Regina like she was yawning. “I had restless leg syndrome when I was pregnant with Henry; it’s a bitch,” Regina heard a smile in Emma’s voice. “And he gave me killer heartburn.”

Regina smiled too, but hers faded as quickly as it appeared. “Why did you call me, Emma?”

“I, um,” Regina heard the blonde sigh. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m fine,” she answered a little too quickly.

“Regina,” the blonde protested.

“Emma,” the brunette retorted.

Silence followed, before Regina reluctantly continued.

“If you must know,” she said sounding slightly exasperated as she moved her hand to smooth out the creases in her blanket. “I’m a little worried about telling Henry tomorrow.”

“Don’t be-”

“What if he doesn’t understand?” Regina voiced her earlier thoughts.

“He will,” Emma said simply. “What’s not to understand? You’re like, stuck between a rock and a hard place.”

Regina smiled softly at Emma’s phrasing, finding the blondes overuse of the work ‘like’ oddly endearing - which was new; she used to find it infuriating.

“Henry will be fine Regina,” Emma continued, unaware of the brunettes sudden realisation. “He’ll be better for knowing the truth.”

“Do you really think so?” Regina asked, snapping out of her reverie - the Saviour’s words filling her with hope.

“I know so,” Emma paused. “If you want, I can bring him over to you in the morning before we go to Granny’s. We can tell him together?”

“Hmm,” Regina hummed and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I guess that could work,” she nibbled her lower lip in contemplation. She had considered telling Henry on the walk to school, but the thought of having Emma there too filled her with a sense of calm.  
There was a warming in her chest, not too dissimilar to how she had felt in Emma’s arms earlier that afternoon. “As long as that’s okay with you?” Regina swiftly pressed on, pushing her emotions down - not ready to scrutinise whatever it was she was feeling. “How about I make breakfast here instead?”

“Sounds great,” Emma accepted easily. “Pancakes?”

Regina scoffed. “Our son told me you were ordering pizza for dinner tonight – and now you want pancakes as well?”

“I’m just helping you out with your evil plan for my ass.”

“My...my what?” Regina asked sounding flustered; she felt herself flush.

“Earlier today,” Emma drawled in explanation. “You bought muffins – there was a joke about making my ass fat...”

“Oh, right.” Regina rolled her eyes, finally catching on. “Very funny.”  
“Wait,” Emma said, humour in her voice. “What did you think I meant?”

“Good night, Miss Swan.” Regina responded dryly and she heard Emma chuckle.

“Do you think you can sleep now?”

Regina yawned, as if on queue and sunk further into her pillows; she was definitely feeling more relaxed. “I think so,”

“That’s good,” Emma said. “Well, good night Your Majesty.”

“Goodnight,” Regina said through a sleepy smile. “Oh and Emma?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty please let me know what you think :). Your feedback fuels my creativity!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the comments and kudos so far; every time I get an e-mail letting me know that someone is enjoying this story, it truly makes my day.
> 
> As always, much thanks to BuzzyBee2212 for the beta work on this chapter, your hep is very much appreciated!

Henry sat quietly at his usual spot at the kitchen island; a half eaten plate of pancakes and syrup in front of him.

“Not hungry, sweetheart?” Regina asked, perched on a stool at the island, adjacent to her son. To the untrained ear, the Mayor’s question might have appeared casual, but to Emma, the brunette’s tone sounded anything but. 

“I guess, not,” their son answered with a shrug, pushing at the pancakes with his fork one last time, before crossing the cutlery on his plate to signify he was finished. 

Henry wasn’t the only person not eating their breakfast that morning; as the Sheriff wolfed down more than her share of the pancakes and bacon, she took note that Regina just sipped at a glass of water. Initially, Emma had assumed the former Queen’s abstinence had been due to her nerves, however upon seeing the way the brunette recoiled as the plate of bacon was passed under her nose – the blonde instantly knew otherwise.

Morning sickness.

The Saviour watched the exchange between mother and son as she swallowed the last of her breakfast and wiped at her mouth with a napkin; noticing the brunette reaching for Henry’s plate, the blonde quickly reacted, intercepting the action. “I’ll clear these,” she said, getting to her feet and swiping both empty plates from the counter, before Regina could use cleaning as an excuse to avoid the ‘elephant in the room’.

The mayor narrowed her eyes at the blonde, deftly communicating that she knew exactly what she was up to - but the sheriff simply countered with a glare of her own, nodding her head towards their son, in an attempt to give the brunette a silent but stern, kick up the ass.

As the blonde placed the dirty dishes by the sink, she heard the mayor sigh heavily - and even though her back was turned, Emma knew she had won at least that round of mental sparring. Feeling quietly pleased with herself, she wiped her hands on the front of her jeans and turned back to face the other two people in the room.

“Henry, I...” Regina took another deep breath and glanced to the ceiling, as if she were searching for the right words or maybe even for the courage to continue. “I think you know that we haven’t been entirely honest with you, about what happened the other night.”

“I’m not a kid anymore.” Henry said sulkily, apparently choosing not to let his mother off lightly.

“Right,” Regina stiffened slightly, apparently not expecting such a hostile response. “I know that,” she reached across the counter, almost touching his hand but falling short. “It’s just that sometimes I-” she looked over her shoulder at the blonde before continuing. “Both Emma and I, have a hard time accepting that our little boy is growing up.”

When Henry followed his mother’s gaze over to where the sheriff stood awkwardly by the sink, the blonde felt her heart thud in her chest; this was their moment – Regina and Henry’s – in their house, in their kitchen and yet for some reason the brunette had chosen to include Emma in it.

As the Saviour let their combined gazes draw her back to her seat at the island, she felt a little lightheaded, overwhelmed by Regina’s words and the domesticity of their current situation. Touched as she was, the blonde quickly swallowed down the emotions that the brunettes inclusion of her had surfaced, storing them away to be addressed another day; there were currently more pressing things at hand.

“Henry, you must understand that there are things that have happened in my life,” Regina continued as Emma took a seat, “that you won’t read about in that story book of yours, things that I’d prefer you weren’t exposed to,” the brunette frowned and looked down at the counter. “Upsetting things.”

Henry shifted his arm, closing the small space on the counter between them and placed his hand on Regina’s; the brunette instantly brought her watery gaze up to meet his. “It’s okay, Mom; I can handle it.”

“Oh, my little price, I know you can,” Regina reached out with her unoccupied hand and cupped Henry’s cheek, her eyes welling with tears, “but you really shouldn’t have to.” The brunette’s lips set in a thin line and she sat back, both of her hands retreating to rest on her lap. “But, you saw what you saw-“ she said with a hint of bitterness before pushing herself up from the counter and moving to look through the kitchen window.

“I’m not sure what I saw,” Henry shrugged, confusion evident on his young face as he tracked his mother’s movements across the kitchen.

“Henry,” Regina turned back to face their son, her arms crossed over her chest. It appeared to Emma that the brunette was now looking more collected, like she had taken that moment by the window to compose herself. “Do you recall what I taught you about sex?”

Emma nearly choked on her coffee; if it wasn’t for the seriousness of their current situation, the Sheriff would have found her son’s expression comical.

“Of course I remember,” he said, wide eyed; his horrified gaze shifting between his two mothers. “I’m still traumatised,”

“Do you also happen to recall what I told you when you asked me why you didn’t have any brothers and sisters?”

The mayor’s tone may have been flat and emotionless, however her words had an instantly sobering effect on Emma. Knowing what she now knew about the brunette’s past, the blonde understood the inevitable impact such an innocent question from a younger Henry would have had; the painful memories it would have surfaced.

“You told me that you couldn’t have children of your own,” Henry paused briefly and glanced cautiously at Emma before continuing, “...and that was why I was special, because you’d wanted a baby so much.”

Emma shifted uncomfortably on her stool; the subtext behind Regina’s words to a younger Henry were not lost on her. The implication of the word ‘wanted’ settled in her chest, tightening its grip around her heart. The blonde knew that her son understood the reasons behind him being put up for adoption, but that didn’t mean that he had never felt the pain of that abandonment.

_A pain I know all too well._

“Where are you going with this, Mom?” Henry asked, tentatively – his question bringing them back into the present with a thud.

“Well, Henry, what I didn’t tell you - because at the time you were too young to understand, was why I am unable to have children of my own.”

“Did...” Henry looked at Emma again, before his gaze settled back on his adopted mother. He dipped his head, looking up into the mayor’s eyes and when he spoke his voice was suddenly small, devoid of any of the earlier bravado. “Did somebody hurt you?”

“No, Henry,” Regina said breathily, crossing the kitchen to stand by him again, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Well, not directly,”

“What do you mean?” Henry asked, craning his neck to look at the brunette as she frowned, dropping her hand back to her side and taking a seat at the island once more.

“Back when I was the...” Regina swallowed and her expression soured, like the words she was about to speak were unpalatable. “Evil Queen,” her gaze lowered to the counter and she clasped her hands in front of her. “God, I was so angry,” she took a pause, before pressing on. “One day, Mother – your Grandmother – tried to manipulate me into conceiving an heir to the throne.”

“Manipulate? But didn’t you want a kid?” Henry asked, as if it were all that simple.

“Not then.” Regina bought her eyes back up to meet her sons. “And certainly not like that.” her heartache was evident in her expression. “You see Henry, up until that point, almost every important decision about my life had been made by somebody else,” she spoke quietly. “At that time, my title was really all that I had - and I knew that if I had an heir, mother would find a way to remove me from the picture. That she would try to mould my child, the way she had tried to...condition me.”

Emma now noted the shaking of Regina’s hands when she talked of Cora and her childhood; she saw the emotion that appeared – albeit temporarily - in the brunette’s eyes. That word the Mayor had just used ‘condition’, the blonde knew from her own experience that it was loaded.

“So, what did you do?” Henry asked, a deep line appearing between his eyebrows as his young mind struggled to connect the dots.

“I made sure that could never happen.”

“You,” the teenager said, confusion still evident in his expression. “You hurt yourself?”

“I did.” Regina nodded sadly. “I concocted a potion preventing me from ever giving birth to an heir – but I was foolish,” she shook her head. “In my haste to...to spite my mother, I made a mistake.”

“A mistake?” Henry’s words were tainted with a sense of foreboding.

“The potion that I drank, it does prevent me from ever bringing a child into the world - but it doesn’t stop me from conceiving one.”

After a couple of beats, realisation dawned on Henry’s face. “You were pregnant, weren’t you? That’s what you were doing?” He asked, his eyes wide. “You weren’t trying to hurt yourself – you were trying to...”

“I was,” Regina agreed, her tone heavy with hurt. “But it didn’t work, something went wrong; I had a bad reaction,” the brunette’s pained eyes met the Saviours over the kitchen island. “And that’s when Emma found me.”

“You’re still pregnant?” Henry asked, a hint of optimism in his tone.

“For now,” Regina concurred, returning her attention to her son and shaking her head slowly. “But I can’t continue to be.” 

“But why?” He asked, bewildered. “Isn’t there some way to-”

“No,” Regina interrupted their son’s protest. “I’ve tried,” she sat up straight and wiped at a stray tear that had fallen down her cheek. “Trust me, I’ve tried, but nothing works.”

“You’ve tried?” He asked, his young face twisting in concern for his mother. “So,” he stuttered. “So there were more..?”

Regina simply ducked her head affirmatively. “No matter what I try to do Henry, the baby will die anyway,” she shrugged, defeated. “It’s just that this way, it gives me some semblance of...control.”

“You’ll use magic again?”

“Not this time,” the brunette placed her hand on Henry’s forearm. “I’m going to a hospital, where there are doctors that help with this sort of thing; I won’t scare you like that again, I promise.”

Henry’s eyes dropped to his arm where his mother’s hand lay. Emma could practically hear the cogs turning in their son’s head as she and Regina shared a worried glance.

“I’ll make sure your Mom’s okay, Henry,” the blonde finally entered the conversation and their son lifted his sad gaze to meet hers. “I’m going with her.”

“To the abortion clinic?” At his mothers’ shocked expressions, he continued. “Yeah, I know what one is,” he shrugged sadly and looked to the counter. “I told you, I’m not a kid anymore.”

“Please understand, Henry,” the brunette said, her voice finally cracking under the strain of emotion; she leaned forward on the counter and tugged on his arm – urging him to look up at her. “This is not something that I want to do.”

At that, their son did look up at Regina and with tears in his own eyes, he rose from the stool and wrapped his arms around the woman’s shoulders. “It’s okay, Mom,” he soothed, pulling her tightly into his chest. “I understand.”

xXx

“You’re a great son; do you know that?” Emma smiled affectionately at Henry as they wandered slowly down the mansion driveway. “What you just did in there,” she nodded her head back towards the house, where Regina was still readying herself for work. “It really meant the world to her.”

“Thanks,” Henry shrugged and shoved his hands in his trouser pockets. A faint blush coloured his cheeks, he was seemingly a little embarrassed at Emma’s gushing. “I knew that horrible things had happened, you know, before,” he looked down at his shoes as they walked. “but I never thought...”

“I know what you mean, kid.” Emma mirrored her son’s body language, her own hands finding her pockets as they turned into the street. “I understood that bad things had to have happened to make your Mom all evil and stuff,” Emma shook her head softly. “But actually learning what they were...”

“It hurts,” Henry said quietly, his words slowing Emma to a stop.

“Hey,” the Saviour placed a hand on her son’s shoulder, and he reluctantly turned and brought his gaze up to meet hers. “It’s okay to be sad, Henry.”

“I guess,” he muttered, bringing his hands up to grip the straps of his satchel, hoisting it further up his back.

“Come on,” Emma stretched her arm around his shoulder and they started to walk again.

“Do you want me to drop you at school?” After a few minutes of silence, the Sheriff made an attempt at small talk. “I’ve got to make a run that way this morning, so I can drop you in the squad car,” she nudged him with her shoulder. “You can ride in the back where the bad guys sit?”

“Nah, it’s okay,” He said, a sideways smile creeping across his face, nevertheless. “That’s Leroy’s spot.”

“Too true, kid,” Emma shared his smile. “Too true.”

As they neared the bus stop, Henry drew to a halt. “So,” he said, turning to face his mother and taking a step backwards. “What’s the plan?”

“Come again?” Emma frowned.

“About the baby,” he answered matter of fact. “You know, Operation Mongoose.”

“Oh no,” Emma shook her head firmly. “This isn’t operation Mongoose – this is about us respecting Regina’s wishes.”

“This isn’t about being pro-life, Mom,” Henry rolled his eyes. “You heard her; this isn’t something she wants to do, this is something that she thinks she has to do, for magical reasons - not medical ones.”

“Henry,” Emma warned.

“Mom,” he protested. “Don’t you think that it’s at least worth exploring the possibility magic can undo what she did?”

“Your Mom said that she’s tried...”

“But things are different now,” he continued. “We’re in a different world, she has a family, people that love her – and you know first hand that’s the most powerful magic of all.”

“Okay, you’re clearly spending way too much time with your grandparents.” Emma muttered before continuing. “Look, Henry, I’m sorry. I don’t like it any more than you do, but your Mom asked me to leave it and-” the Saviours shoulders sagged forward as she hooked her thumbs through her belt loops. “Regina trusts me right now,” the blonde’s green eyes pleaded with her son to understand the gravity behind that. “And I won’t do anything to jeopardise that.”

“But what if this is her happy ending?”

“Like Robin Hood?”

“He was her Soulmate,” Henry scowled. “Not her happy ending.”

“Regardless,” Emma rolled her eyes, wondering, not for the first time if she’d ever get the hang of the local lingo. “My point is that you were right.”

“I was?”

“She is in a different world now,” Emma punctuated her sentence with a sharp nod. “Your mother is in a world where she finally gets to make important decisions about her own life,” the Saviour raised her eyebrows. “Do you really want to interfere with that?”

“I never said that I wanted to make the decision for her,” he grumbled, scuffing his sneaker against the sidewalk. 

“Henry, I know that I can’t stop you from looking into this,” Emma said with a defeated sigh. “I wish I could but you’ve proved to us time and time again, that once you set your mind to something...”

The teenager puffed out his chest, defiantly.

“All I ask, Henry, is that if you happen to find something that might work, that you think long and hard about how much hurt it would cause your Mom, if it doesn’t,” Emma continued before he was able to protest. “Not having a happy ending is bad enough...but giving someone unrealistic hope is far worse.”

With the impact of those words hanging in the air between them, Emma left her son at the bus stop, and headed to the station.

xXx

Regina glanced down at her wrist watch as she crossed Main Street, heading towards Granny’s diner. It was now nearing 1pm and the Mayor was absolutely famished; the queasiness she’d felt earlier that morning had finally passed, and it had been replaced with the -albeit unusual- hankering for starchy carbs.

Though as she neared her destination, any thoughts of French fries were suddenly halted when she spotted three Charming’s; David was helping Snow lift baby Neal’s stroller down the steps of the diner.

Regina instantly froze in the middle of the street; just like a deer caught in headlights.

Although the brunette had not been entirely ‘compos mentis’ when she’d asked Dr Whale to explain the events that led to her waking up in hospital yesterday morning, one of the few things he’d said that did cut through the miasma of embarrassment and pain, was that ‘Prince Charming’ had been there.

The Mayor had later learned from her son, that not only had David been at the hospital, he had actually been the one to carry her downstairs at the mansion, and place her in the ambulance. 

_Which means that he knows._

Regina’s heart hammered inside her chest, panic forcing the air from her lungs. But before the brunette could turn and flee, a truck rounded the corner; it’s tires screeching as the vehicle swerved, narrowly missing her.

The Mayor spun to face the car, the driver blasting the horn in annoyance, before realising just who was glaring at him through his rear view mirror. Fearing a fireball, the driver swiftly sped away.

“Regina,” David said breathlessly, having run to her side to assist ( _of course_ ). “Are you okay?”

The Mayor stiffened at the sound of David’s voice behind her and visibly flinched at the touch of his hand on her arm, before she finally turned to face him.

“David, I,” her voice sounded strained, even to her own ears.

_Pathetic._

“Let’s get out of the road, shall we?” He dropped his hand from her arm and stepped onto the sidewalk; despite her annoyance, Regina found herself dutifully following him. “I got that guy’s plates; he was driving like a maniac...”

“Quite,” Regina muttered, wiping invisible dust from the arms of her black woollen jacket, before tugging at the sleeves to straighten out the fabric.

“Regina, are you okay?” Snow arrived at David’s side in a matter of seconds, her face, flushed from the exertion of rushing from the diner, was wrought with concern – but the Mayor quite clearly read another emotion there too; it was pity.

_Snow knows too._

“I’m fine,” the former Queen huffed, shaking her hair back over her shoulders and straightening her spine.

“You don’t look fine,” Snow responded quickly.

“If I wanted your opinion dear, I’d give it to you.” Regina snapped, before Snow’s startled expression caused her to regret her hostility.

“W...well,” the shorter haired woman stammered, readying the stroller in order to retreat.

“I’m sorry,” Regina held up a hand and closed eyes; internally cursing the Charmings for ever breaching her emotional defences. She inhaled deeply, before opening her eyes to speak. “I’m just a little shaken, that’s all.”

“That’s understandable,” David nodded. “He could have killed you.”

“What an anti-climactic way for the Evil Queen to die,” Regina muttered, and had meant it as a joke, but the smile never reached her lips.

“Former,” Snow corrected with a smile of her own, her pale hands gripping at the handles of Neal’s stroller. “Formerly evil, I mean.”

“Right,” Regina nodded and diverted her gaze, suddenly feeling awkward under their scrutiny.

“Right,” David echoed. “Well,” he pushed a hand through his hair. “As long as you’re okay – we’ll be going.”

“Right,” Regina said again, but as they moved to leave she found herself stopping David with a hand on his arm. “David, wait.”

He turned back, first looking at her hand on his arm, then meeting her eyes with a frown.

“I’ll just,” Snow, surprising both her husband and stepmother, made her excuses and left them to continue the conversation without her.

“I wanted to say, thank you,” Regina dropped her hand back to her side and smiled wanly at Prince Charming. “For the other night,” the brunettes gaze fell to her black Monolo’s. “What you did...”

“Regina, there’s really no need,” David said, his tone light – almost jovial. “I would have done the same for anyone.”

“But I’m not just anyone, David.” Regina hastened to state, her gaze shifting back up to meet his. “I’m me, and you’re...” she frowned. “You’re you.”

“We’re a family.”

“David,” she protested weakly.

“Regina, you don’t have to go through this alone.” The sincerity in David’s expression rendered the Mayor temporarily speechless. “We don’t know why you did what you did – and we don’t need to know. Just as long as you understand that we are here for you, Snow and I, if you need us.” 

Regina’s disbelieving gaze searched his blue eyes looking for any hint of bitterness, yet she found nothing there but a nauseating amount of integrity. “God,” she laughed somewhat derisively, shaking her head. “What is it with you Charming’s?”

David shrugged and the lopsided smile that touched his lips was the same smile Regina had witnessed on Emma lips...and on the lips of their son. Just a short while ago, such a revelation would have angered the former Queen, but now...now it filled her with the unfamiliar sense of belonging.

“We’re persistent,” he retorted.

“No kidding,” Regina scoffed, but couldn’t prevent a small smile gracing her features this time, as she thought of how far they’d all come. 

_I’ve gone soft._

“Right, well.” David took a step backwards, making to leave. “I had better head back; I’ve got some errands to run and a grilled cheese to deliver to Emma; she hates it when the cheese goes cold...”

“And she says she’s not a princess,” Regina rolled her eyes. “I was actually planning on dropping by the station this lunch-time; I can take the sheriff her lunch, if you’d like?” At David’s confused expression, the brunette felt the need to elaborate. “Emma, she’s...helping me with something.”

“That would be great, thanks.” David smiled broadly and handed Regina the paper bag containing Emma’s lunch. He moved to walk away, before turning to add, “tell her I’ll be back around three?”

“Of Course,” Regina nodded, holding the brown paper bag at arms reach, grimacing at the greasy marks that had already started to pepper the surface.

xXx

Emma’s ears pricked up when she heard the familiar click of heels in the corridor outside her office; she had just been considering sending the brunette a text.

“Think of the devil, and she will appear,” Emma kept her gaze on her paperwork as she spoke, feigning nonchalance. 

“I think you’ll find that’s ‘speak of the Devil, Miss Swan.” Regina quipped as she slinked into the sheriff’s office and dropped a greasy paper bag on her desk. “Children’s meal for one?”

“Breakfast and lunch,” Emma leant back on her chair and lifted her feet to rest on the desk. “People will talk,” the blonde instantly realised the double entendre and blushed. “I mean because of the Saviour, Evil Queen thing you know...not-”

“Of course, dear,” Regina for her part, seemed to be enjoying the sheriff’s embarrassment, an amused smile stretching across her face. “Anyone would think we were friends.”

“Right,” Emma muttered as she dropped her feet to the floor, her blush deepening as she grabbed her lunch from the desk. “You saw my dad?” She asked, hoping for a change of subject.

“I did,” Regina said, lowering herself gracefully to the seat on the opposite side of Emma’s desk. “He said he’d be back around thee.”

“Uh-huh,” Emma nodded as she took a bite out of her sandwich. “No kale salad, huh?” she asked as she watched the Mayor meticulously spread her lunch out on the desk, which today consisted of a chicken salad wrap and-“Wait,” Emma’s mouth dropped open, feigning shock. “Madame Mayor, are those fries?”

“I believe you are more than familiar with fried potatoes, Miss Swan.” Regina said coolly, arching one perfectly manicured eyebrow.

“Oh, I am,” Emma raised her own eyebrows. “But I seem to recall you telling me that they’d be the death of me.”

“I missed breakfast,” the brunette snapped defensively. “And if you must know, I was planning on sharing them with you,” she moved to pull the open bag of fries away from the blonde. “But if you don’t want any I’ll just-“

“No, no-” Emma reached out to stop the mayor removing the bag. “Thanks,” she said as she smiled sheepishly.

Regina nodded curtly and took a bite of her wrap.

“So,” the blonde grinned, already anticipating the brunette’s response to her pending jibe. “Speaking of eating for two,” she ignored the Mayor’s expected glower. “Have you managed to find a clinic yet?”

Regina hummed around her lunch, before picking up a napkin to dab her lips; Emma noted that the brunette’s dark red lipstick stayed perfectly in place. _What brand is that?_ “That’s why I’m here, actually.” The mayor reached back into the bag from Granny’s and pulled out a bottle of water for herself, before delving back inside to retrieve a root beer for Emma. “I’ve found a suitable clinic a few hours from here-”

“Thanks,” Emma nodded as she accepted the drink and took another bite of her sandwich.

“But they only do morning appointments,” the brunette added hesitantly.

“So?” Emma said with a shrug, around a mouthful of food. “Then book us a motel.” At the mayor’s surprised expression, the blonde rolled her eyes. “Regina, for the love of God,” the sheriff swallowed her food. “I said I’d come with you, now could you please stop looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” The brunette asked, confusion coating her features.

“Like I just moved heaven and earth for you,” the blonde took a swig of her root beer. “It’s unnerving.”

“I’m sorry, Emma,” Regina tilted her head to the side, with a frown. “I guess, I’m still pretty new to this whole,” she waved a hand between them, “friendship thing.”

“Well, get used to it,” Emma raised her chin defiantly. “Because if you carry on like this, you’re gonna give me a God complex.” 

“Oh,” Regina scoffed in jest. “As if you don’t already have one, _Saviour_.”

“Now you’re getting it,” Emma beamed, as she reached across the desk and swiped a handful of fries. “That’s much better.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. 
> 
> It’s always really great to hear from you :). 
> 
> Next chapter – our ladies go on a road trip!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to BuzzyBee2212 for the beta work and putting up with my random messages at all times of the day about lakes, Kings and magic portals!

“Jesus, Regina, you are such a snob,” Emma exclaimed as the brunette turned her nose up at the third motel the blonde had suggested; for a fairy-tale character with little experience outside of Storybrooke, the Mayor had a quite the opinion on budget hotels. 

The women had agreed over their impromptu lunch yesterday, to meet the next day at Granny’s – for a second lunch - to discuss a plan of action for their pending trip.

It was pointless, really; Emma knew that the Mayor already had their journey plans tied down, and considering their reason for travel, the blonde completely understood the brunettes desire to control their movements down to very minute detail. 

What the sheriff didn’t fully understand was the ‘song and dance’ routine; why Regina was so insistent that the blonde be involved in the decision making process, when ultimately the Mayor would have the final say anyway?

“I am not a snob,” the brunette retorted, aghast at the accusation. “It’s just,” she jabbed an accusatory finger at the printouts the sheriff had provided, that were spread across the table. “Did you actually look at these hotels? Or did you just print off the first ones with vacancies that you found?”

At first, Emma had thought that Regina allowing her to pick hotels might have been her way of being nice, of thanking her for offering to go with her to the clinic – but the brunettes usual standoffish nature soon put that theory to bed. If anything, their back and forth had increased over the past couple of days, and now the sheriff had her suspicions that this was all Regina’s way of trying to maintain a level of normalcy between them.

_Who am I to deny her that?_

“You asked me to look for motels, Regina, not Sandals Resorts.” Emma grabbed the printout detailing information for a Motel 6 and held it up in front of the Mayor. “Trust me when I tell you, that you won’t find a Four Seasons in Rumford, Maine.”

“If you must know,” Regina responded haughtily. “I have found us a suitable hotel with a twin room,” she slid her cell phone under the blondes nose. “It’s only about a 30 minute drive from the clinic, in a neighbouring town.” 

The Sheriff scowled at the brunette and snatched the phone from the table; it wasn’t a Four Seasons, but it appeared Regina had found a hotel on a local golf course more suiting to her queenly standards. 

The blondes eyebrows caved to a frown as she eyed the Mayor curiously over the cell phone. “Twin room?”

“Well,” Regina scoffed. “When faced with the option of sharing a room with you, or catching impetigo from,” she nudged the paperwork on the table, “Happy Moe’s Wonder Lodge-”

“Travel lodge,”

“Whatever,” the mayor waved her hand dismissively and rested back in the booth. “I chose you.”

“Gee thanks,” Emma muttered, hunkering down in the booth as she scrolled through the hotel details. “It has a spa?” She asked, trying but failing to keep the interest out of her tone. 

“Of course, dear.” 

Emma’s frown deepened as she tried to maintain the façade that sleeping in a motel 6 was preferable to Regina’s choice with its heated pool, sauna and hot-tub... 

“So?” Regina asked, her eyebrows raised; a smug smile already beginning to tug at her lips.

_The jig is up._

“Fine,” Emma rolled her eyes and slid the phone back across the table to the Mayor. “But you’re paying.”

xXx

Regina drew the zip on her Louis Vuitton travel bag closed; the day of the trip seemed to have come around much quicker than expected for the Mayor...as events that she was dreading usually did.

Her stomach churned as she entered her walk-in closet, and the brunette paused for a beat, wondering if she would need to make a dart for the bathroom. Regina breathed slowly through her nose and rubbed her abdomen, until slowly the nausea subsided; the mayor couldn’t recall her pregnancy sickness ever being this bad. She was exhausted; her reserves were still incredibly low and any attempt to use magic seemed to result in a fresh wave of nausea that further depleted the little energy she had. 

Pulling a black woollen coat from the rack and slipping it over her shoulders, the former queen glimpsed her appearance in the closet mirror. Although she had certainly looked worse that week, there was still a pallor to her skin that no amount of make-up could hide; her lack of sleep was taking it’s toll. 

It was easier during the day for the mayor to distract herself from her thoughts; meetings were pulled forward at work, lunches were shared with the sheriff (under the guise of planning their trip), and even though it was Emma’s week the have their son, Henry had opted to stay with Regina. 

It was the nights however, that were the worst; countless hours spent tossing and turning until finally she’d fall into a fitful sleep – her dreams plagued with images of screaming infants and bloodied sheets.

Regina smoothed her hands over her hair and straightened her back.

_Tomorrow all of this will be behind me._

For some reason though, this time around, that truth provided her with little comfort.

As much as she tried to deny it, to put it to the back of her mind, this pregnancy _was_ different. This baby wasn’t the result of a sordid tryst with a conquest or an empty screw with the Woodsman – this time Regina was carrying the child of somebody she’d loved.

_Somebody I’ve lost._

This time the queen couldn’t bottle her up emotions, she couldn’t simply shut down all of that pain – because now, she was different too. Regina had love in her life; she had a family, she had friends...she had people around her that made her feel things...

_Emma._

The brunette’s eyes started to glisten with moisture and she sniffed sharply, looking to the ceiling – blinking back the tears.

_Tomorrow all of this will be behind me._

Inhaling deeply, Regina repeated this mantra internally, until eventually it stuck.

Minutes later and with her emotions in check, she strode back into the bedroom. 

xXx

The mayor stood on the landing outside of Henry’s room and rapped softly on the door.

“Henry?” Her son had been oddly quiet since her revelation; he had seemed preoccupied, more distant than usual. Unfortunately, no amount of coercing on Regina’s part had resulted in him relinquishing anything.

If she were honest, despite how proud the brunette was of Henry and how supportive he’d been about her pending abortion - Regina had prepared herself for a little more resistance. She’d had her suspicions that her son might try to find a solution for her pregnancy, that their time together over the past few days would have been filled with him barraging her with questions about what antidotes she’d tried, what magic she’d already used...

The door to Henry’s bedroom opened suddenly, shocking the brunette who had drifted deep into thought.

“Henry,” she placed a hand over her chest, where her heart pounded from the jolt. “You startled me,” 

“Why?” Henry said; the sardonic expression that coated his teenage features had the mayor wondering, not for the first time, whereon earth her happy little boy had gone. “You knocked on my door.”

“Well, yes,” Regina shook her head softly, but upon noticing what Henry was carrying, she decided to change the subject. “You’re taking the story book to your grandparents?” She asked with a frown, adjusting the bag she carried in her hand.

“Looks like it,” Henry shrugged as he hugged the bag closer to his chest and moved past his mother to descend the stairs; Regina followed closely behind. 

“I’ve not seen you looking at that book for a while,” she voiced cautiously as they reached the foyer. “Not since we got back from the underworld. Are you researching anything in particular?” 

“There’s just something in it that I want to ask Grandpa about,” he explained casually, grabbing a pair of shoes from the rack near the front door and sinking to sit on the stairs. “That’s all.”

Regina’s frown deepened, momentarily signifying that she wasn’t in the least bit convinced there wasn’t something more going on. She quickly schooled her features however; she knew Henry, and making accusations was not the best way forward. 

“Henry,” The brunette dropped her bag to the floor and crouched down next to her son. “You know that if there is something bothering you, that you can talk to me about it, don’t you?”

“I know, mom.” he said, concentrating on pulling on his sneakers with the laces already tied.

The mayor eyed her son suspiciously; it wasn’t that she wanted him to question her on the abortion issue, per say – more that it troubled her the expected push-back hadn’t come at all. 

Henry wanted to save everybody; his silence on the matter was entirely unlike him.

Regina wanted for them to deal with any fallout now, for everything to be out in the open - but for whatever reason, anything Henry was feeling, he was keeping firmly under lock and key. 

“Henry,” she started, but the door bell sounding interrupted her mid flow; with one last look at her son, Regina sighed and got to her feet. 

“Hey,” Emma stood on the porch in her trademark red leather jacket and skin tight jeans; an old duffle bag swung over her right shoulder. “You almost ready?” 

“Good morning, Emma,” the mayor smiled thinly; annoyed that the saviour had chosen today in particular to be uncharacteristically punctual. 

“You’re dressed like we’re going on a business trip,” Emma surmised, taking in the brunettes appearance. “Do you ever dress casual?”

“Casually,” Regina corrected irritably, stepping aside to let the blonde enter. “And do you ever not?”

“Touché,” the saviour muttered as she stepped into the foyer, swinging her bag off of her shoulder and dropping it by her feet. “Hey, kid.”

“Hey,” Henry smiled weakly as he got to his feet. 

“Everything okay?” Emma asked, glancing between the two of them, as if she could sense the tension that hung there. 

“Everything’s fine,” Henry answered swiftly, before turning to Regina. “Can you guys drop me off on the way? I want to take my Xbox with me but it’s too much to carry.” 

“Of course,” Regina responded. 

“Thanks,” he turned to head back into the house. “I’ll just go get it.” 

“Alright,” Regina said, closing the door behind the saviour. “But do hurry up, Henry; we’re leaving in 5 minutes.”

“Everything’s fine, huh?” Emma questioned the mayor, once their son was out of earshot.

“Is it that obvious?” The brunette asked, her eyebrows raised.

“Super power,” the blonde offered in explanation. “What’s up?” 

“I’m sure that something’s bothering him, but he won’t talk to me.” Regina looked up the stairs as she heard Henry’s bedroom door click shut. “He’s been suspiciously quiet and now he’s taking that damn story book to the charming’s,” she frowned and looked to Emma. “He hasn’t said anything to you?”

“No,” the blonde answered quickly, shifting her stance before continuing. “I mean, he’s said that he’s sad for you and that he wishes that there was something he could do, but that’s it,” the saviour glanced up the stairs. “You want me to go talk to him?” 

“No,” Regina sighed and moved around Emma, taking a pair of black knee-high boots off of the shoe rack. “It’s fine; I’m probably just imagining it.” 

“It’s a lot for him to handle,” the blonde turned and took a step closer to the mayor. “He’s probably just processing, you know?” 

“You’re probably right,” the brunette leant against the wall with her arm for support, as she zipped up one black boot and stepped into the other. “I just don’t want this to affect him anymore than it already has,” she bent to secure the second zip, before raising to stand. “He’s already been through so much because of me-” 

Henry bounding down the stairs interrupted their conversation. “I’m ready,” he flung his backpack over his shoulder and looked to them both expectantly. “Let’s go.” 

“He’s a resilient kid, Regina,” Emma said sincerely, as they followed their son out of the house to join him by the Mercedes parked on the drive. “I can have my parents talk to him while we’re gone. He might open up to them?”

“Your mother has all the subtlety of a sledge hammer,” the mayor huffed as she closed the door to the mansion behind them – but at Emma’s serious expression so conceded. _What could it hurt?_ “Very well - but have your father do it, he’s at least a little more discerning.”

xXx 

Regina didn’t really talk much whilst she was driving, and she apparently drove like she did everything in life – meticulously; to Emma, it was like watching driving 101.

_‘Keep both hands on the wheel at all times, positioned at 2 and 10’._

The blonde smirked and the brunette appeared to catch it out of the corner of her eye.

“Something funny?”

“Um, no.” Emma flushed and shifted in her seat, facing forwards, feeling like a scalded child.

It was several minutes before the saviour braved another glance in the mayor’s direction - her gaze shifting over to where the brunette’s hands gripped the steering wheel; her fingers were clenching the leather so tightly that the tips of her knuckles were white.

Regina was wound like a coiled spring. She’d hardly said a word to Emma since they crossed the town line; it was like a switch had been flicked. Any attempt the sheriff made to lighten the mood with conversation was met with a one word answer or a wall of silence; she’d even vetoed the radio.

The mayor cleared her throat and the blonde realised that she was staring again and immediately averted her eyes. Sighing heavily, she looked out of the window at passing trees; because that’s pretty much all there was between them and their destination - trees.

_Two more hours of this?_

She shifted in her seat and felt the tug of her bladder, instantly regretting the hot chocolate she’d grabbed from Granny’s before they left Storybrooke. 

Emma sighed again and started bouncing her leg on the ball of her foot, hoping the movement would distract her from the building ache in her lower abdomen (and the sheer boredom of the road trip.)

“Must you fidget quite so much?” Regina broke the silence, her gaze still trained on the road ahead.

_Unreal._

“I’m sorry, it’s just,” Emma angled her body towards brunette. “Are we going to stop for a break soon? I could really do with using the bathroom-”

“Already?” The brunette asked, dismayed and this time she did turn her head in the blonde’s direction – the glance was fleeting but filled with enough annoyance to hit her point home. “Why didn’t you go before we left? It’s only been an hour-”

“I know but,” Emma squirmed in her seat. “I didn’t need to go then.”

“Honestly, “ Regina scoffed. “It’s like travelling with a child.”

Emma didn’t respond; she really had no argument.

“There’s a rest stop in a few miles up the road, according to a sign we just passed,” the mayor continued her tirade. “Can you wait that long, or would you like me to pull over at the side of the road, so that you can go in the bushes like a wild animal?” 

“God, Regina, what the hell is your problem?” Emma exclaimed, before crossing her arms over her chest and adding. “I can wait.”

The mayor’s jaw set and they drove the rest of the way in silence, the scowl between both of their eyebrows fixed in place. Regina pulled her Mercedes into a space at the rest stop with a little more swing than necessary, turned off the engine and sat staring straight ahead; silently seething.

Emma looked at her for a few beats, before rolling her eyes and exiting the vehicle. The blonde paused and remembering why they were on the road in the first place, she felt a pang of guilt and ducked to lean back through the open door. “Did you need anything?”

“No, thank you.” Regina answered tightly, her gaze still focussed forward. 

“Fine,” Emma bit, as she slammed the door, and stalked towards the bathrooms.

xXx

Fifteen minutes later, once Emma had taken care of business and calmed herself down, she returned to the car. Opening the door, she paused - one leg in the vehicle and one leg out; she dipped her head to look over at Regina incredulously.

“We’ve already had a conversation about you apologising with food,” she said flatly, referring to the share-bag of peanut M&M’s on her seat. She grabbed the confectionary and placed it the centre console, as she sat down. 

“They’re for us to share,” Regina said, taking hold of the bag and opening it. “I got hungry waiting for you to come out of the bathroom.” She poured a few colourful treats out into the palm of her hand, before offering the bag to Emma.

“Well, I needed to cool down,” the saviour said in explanation, accepting the bag before filling her palm, then her mouth with the candy.

Regina nodded, daintily picking out a red M&M and popping it in her mouth. 

Emma stuffed another large handful of candy in her mouth, before placing the bag between them and reaching for her seatbelt; it was only then that she realised that the brunette wasn’t doing the same.

“Are we going, or-?” The sheriff looked at Regina, her eyebrows raised, but the mayor simply stared downwards and she thumbed the edges of the candy that she held in her hand.

“Regina?” Emma pressed. 

“I’m sorry, Emma,” the brunette finally said in a breath, closing her fist around the M&M’s. “I’m just,” she sighed and looked skywards for a beat, before bringing her gaze down to meet the blondes. “I’m just so exhausted; I’ve not really slept at all since...well...you know.”

“That’s...understandable,” Emma twisted in her seat to face Regina; noticing for the first time that day, the rather obvious dark circles under the brunette’s eyes.

_How on earth did I miss them earlier?_

“I mean, I was tired before we left Storybrooke,” Regina shrugged softly. “But now,” she sighed heavily. “All I can think is that without realising, I must have been using magic to keep my energy levels up...as soon as we crossed that line...” 

“You lost your energy,” Emma surmised, now better understanding the source of the mayor’s mood. “Okay,” she frowned. “Do you want me to drive?”

“I think,” Regina sighed again, clearly frustrated and shook her head in defeat. “I think that would be best,”

“You’re gonna let me drive the Merc?” A sideways smile crept across the sheriff’s face; she couldn’t stop it. “Really?” 

The mayor caught Emma’s jovial expression and the saviour killed it instantly - but instead of being characteristically hostile, the brunette simply raised an eyebrow, before popping the remaining M&M’s into her mouth and opening the car door. 

“Don’t push it, Miss Swan.”

xXx

David sat on a stool in his kitchen, sipping a cup of freshly brewed coffee.

“Ahh,” he sighed and relaxed further into the counter. 

_Yeah, Snow had bought the good stuff this time._

A frustrated groan sounding behind him, interrupted his ‘hot beverage moment’ and he glanced over his shoulder to the couch in the corner of the room.

Henry slammed the storybook closed on the coffee table and threw himself back on the couch, his arms crossed over his chest in a huff. 

David looked away, chewing the inside of his mouth in contemplation. 

Before she’d left for her road trip, Emma had asked her father to speak to his grandson. She’d alluded to the fact that something was bothering Henry, and that she herself might have had a hand in upsetting him – but she wasn’t particularity specific.

His daughter had also implicitly stated that any interrogating was to be done without Snow being present; a request David knew must have come from Regina. 

The prince had waited for an in, and with Snow settling Neil down for a nap, this opportunity was as good as any.

David swiped his coffee mug from the counter and spun on the stool, to face his grandson. “You alright there, slogger?”

“I’m fine,” Henry answered sternly, before throwing his head back onto he couch dramatically. “It’s just pointless.”

“What’s pointless?”

“The book,” the teenager raised his head and toed the offensive item on the coffee table with a socked foot. “It’s got nothing in there to help Mom.”

David frowned, contemplating his response, before getting off of the stool and crossing the room – coming to a stop on the opposite side of the table to Henry.

“You mean Regina.” He lowered himself to sit on the corner of the table. “And her baby.”

“What else?” Henry looked up at his grandpa, with a sad expression on his face.

“You know, Henry, that book just provides a snapshot of our lives,” he takes another sip of coffee. “Some things are just too complex; I’m sure your mom has good reason to-”

“I’m not stupid,” Henry sat up, his elbows resting on his knees. “I’m not looking for an answer,” he slumped back against the couch again. “I just need to clue...”

“A clue to what?” David placed his cup on the table next to him. “Henry, Regina has made her decision.” 

“But she doesn’t want to do it,” the teenager exclaimed. 

“What do you mean?” 

“She has to do it,” Henry said with a shrug, as if he were stating the obvious. “Because of the potion she took,” he explained.

“The other night?” David asked, his eyes narrowed. “The one she took before she went to hospital?”

“No, the other one,” Henry shook his head. “The one she took so she wouldn’t have an heir...”

David’s frown deepened and as Henry’s eyebrows retreated to his hairline in realisation. 

“You didn’t know about that bit, did you?”

Before David could answer, Snow drifted back into the room.

“What?” Snow asked, looking between her husband and grandson as they stared at her wide-eyed. “Have I got throw-up on me or...” she looked down and checked her sweater.

“Honey,” David glanced at his grandson, before bringing his gaze back to his wife. “Remember that potion King George made you drink...”

xXx

They continued their travels onward, this time in a more comfortable silence. 

After some cajoling, Regina had even let Emma put on the radio and now the blonde hummed along happily, as they cruised towards their destination.

The sheriff would never admit it out loud, but next to the bug, driving the Mercedes was a dream.

She looked over at Regina; the brunette was leaning into the passenger door, her head resting against the window as she stared through the glass. Sunlight from between the trees that they passed, flashed patterns across her olive skin - the light accentuating the reddish tones in her dark hair. 

She had an almost ethereal quality.

_Which, considering what must be going through her head right now..._ Emma frowned. _Why is life so damn cruel?_

The sheriff knew that Regina saw what was happening to her as comeuppance for her evil ways - as some kind of divine retribution – but regardless of what had transpired in the past, Emma had a hard time believing that.

She too had felt darkness creeping through her veins, she understood it’s seductiveness; the temptation of wielding all of that power was so incredibly strong - but where the saviour had been surrounded by family in her darkest hours, Regina had been victim to that pull alone. Yes, she’d let it swallow her whole - but if Emma had been in that situation, who’s to say that she wouldn’t have done exactly the same? 

_Who’s to say that anybody wouldn’t have?_

Emma sighed and returned her eyes to the road; a song she liked sounded on the radio and she reached for the dial to turn it up a notch, welcoming the distraction from her thoughts. 

_I took my love, took it down_  
I climbed a mountain and I turned around  
And I saw my reflection in the snow-covered hills  
'Til the landslide brought me down 

She spared another fleeting glance at Regina, whose focus was still trained on the passing scenery; Emma wondered absently, if she might be enjoying the music too.

_Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love?_  
Can the child within my heart rise above?  
Can I sail through the changing ocean tides?  
Can I handle the seasons of my life? 

The whole situation was surreal really; here she was on a road trip trough Maine, accompanying the Evil Queen to an abortion clinic – wondering what music she listened to.

_Fuck my life._

“Who sings this song?” Regina asked softly, pulling the saviour from her thoughts.

Emma glanced at the brunette and blinked, wondering if she’d accidently voiced her thoughts - but the mayors gaze was still fixed on her view through the window and she seemed oblivious to the blondes inner musings. 

“Stevie Nicks,” Emma answered eventually, as she checked her mirror before manoeuvring the car to overtake a vehicle in front. “It’s Fleetwood Mac,” she looked over at Regina again, her keen interest in the answer to the next question, obvious on her features. “Do you like it?”

Regina hummed contemplatively and rubbed her lips together, before sinking further into her seat and closing her eyes - seemingly giving the saviours question some thought. 

Emma hung on eagerly for an answer, her gaze flitting backwards and forwards between the brunette and the road.

_Well, I've been afraid of changing_  
'Cause I've built my life around you  
But time makes you bolder  
Even children get older  
And I'm getting older too 

“Yes,” Regina answered finally. “I like it very much.” 

Emma smiled as she focussed back on her driving; oddly pleased with herself for discovering something else new about her travel companion.

_The Evil Queen likes music._

Her smile broadened.

_And she has taste._

_I take my love, take it down_  
I climb a mountain and turn around  
And if you see my reflection in the snow-covered hills  
Will the landslide bring you down?  
And if you see my reflection in the snow-covered hills  
Will the landslide bring you down, oh, oh?  
The landslide bring you down 

“I have the album,” Emma said, drumming her fingers against the steering wheel, feeling suddenly quite awkward. “If you want, I can do you a copy?”

_That’s what friends do, right? Share albums?_

“Regina?” When the mayor didn’t answer, Emma glanced in her direction and realised that the brunette had finally succumbed to sleep.

The saviour reached for the knob on the radio, turned the music down low, and cautioned one last look at her sleeping travel companion; a melancholy smile touching her lips. 

The brunette looked so peaceful; her head was lolled to one side, resting on her hand against the window – her expression devoid of any tenseness at all. 

It was only when she noticed Regina’s hand splayed protectively over her abdomen, that Emma’s smile faded. 

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> In order to get the full impact of the car scene and music playing, I thoroughly recommend listening to Landslide by Fleetwood Mac. It’s a beautiful song and when I was listening to it stuck in my car on the M25 the other day, it made me think about Regina’s inner struggle with the EQ. I knew then, that I had to write it into the story somehow.
> 
> I hope you’re looking forward to the next chapter...Emma and Regina having to share a hotel room?! Clichés – fanfiction clichés everywhere! 
> 
> As always, I’m very interested to hear your thoughts/feelings/predictions!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks to BuzzyBee2212 for the beta read and for listening to my rants about ship-wars *sigh*.
> 
> Thank you for all of the comments, and kudos so far. Some of you told me that you loved a cliché and because you asked so nicely for our ladies to be forced to share a bed...I listened 

“Whoa,” Emma whispered to herself as she drove the Mercedes down the winding driveway that led to The Rada Golf & Spa Hotel. “This is nice...”

The main building was an imposing old mansion; it was white with a gabled roof and lots of turrets; the out buildings and club house seemed to be newer additions to the property - but they were by no means less grand.

Everything about the resort screamed pretention to the saviour, and she found herself thankful - for the second time that day - that she hadn’t brought the bug; she could just picture the engine back-firing as they pulled up to the front of the hotel, like a scene from the Beverly Hillbillies.

_Her majesty would’ve just loved that._

A sideways smile tugged at Emma’s lips at the thought, as she reversed the car into a parking space opposite the entrance.

Regina was still asleep in the passenger seat; she’d slept soundly for almost two hours now with her head propped against the car window – at an angle which Emma was sure that the brunette would pay for later. The blonde put the car into park before twisting in her seat to face her travel companion; she still seemed to be in a pretty deep sleep.

The sheriff leant forward slightly in her seat to get a better look at Regina’s face in preparation for waking her, and if she were honest - to check for drool. The queen was drool free, of course, but her face was slightly smushed on one side and Emma found herself smiling at the site; her mirth however was short lived when she thought about what lay ahead. Despite the awkward angle of her neck, the brunette still looked at peace – and wherever her mind was now, it appeared to be in a much better place than it would be, once she was awoken.

Taking a deep breath and keeping one hand on the wheel, the saviour leant over the centre console and placed a hand tentatively on the mayor’s coat covered shoulder.

“Regina,” she said softly, attempting to gently shake her awake.

The brunette grumbled something indecipherable and shrugged her shoulder, twisting her body closer into the window; it was a reaction not too unlike the one Emma got when trying to rouse their teenage son on a morning, and the blonde chuckled quietly at the similarity.

“Come on, sleeping beauty,” Emma said good humouredly, placing her hand on the mayor’s bicep – more firmly this time – before adding. “Om my God Regina! I’ve scratched your car!”

“You did what?” The brunette lifted her head sharply, and turned to face the blonde, simultaneously wincing and a frowning; her eyes narrowing as they adjusted to the light.

“Gotcha,” Emma smiled broadly, still leaning over the intersection with her hand still resting on Regina’s arm. “We’re here.”

“Yes, I can see that, Emma,” the mayor’s scowl deepened and she brought a hand up to knead the muscle where her neck met her shoulder. “How long was I out?”

“A couple of hours,” the blonde pulled back and unbuckled her seatbelt. “Do you feel any better?”

“Marginally,” the mayor looked pained as she stretched her neck, before finally taking in their surroundings; her frown quickly turned upside down as she dipped her head to look up at the hotel through the windscreen. “Wow,” she said, appreciation evident in her tone. “The photographs did this place no justice at all.”

“I know, right?” Emma eagerly agreed as she followed the brunettes gaze.

“Really?” Regina turned her head to look at Emma, a smug expression on her face. “You wouldn’t rather be staying at Happy Joe’s Wonder Lodge?”

“Happy Moe’s Travel Lodge,” Emma corrected again, with an eye roll. “And no,” she conceded, with a bow of her head. “You chose well.”

“Of course I did, dear,” the queen retorted with a smirk over her shoulder, as she moved to exit the vehicle. 

“I don’t know why you ever doubt me.”

xXx

The mayor strode across to the reception desk with her usual air of authority, as Emma ambled in line behind her. The blonde was completely in awe of the hotel’s lobby; wide green eyes traced the elaborate patterns that swirled across the ceiling in gold paint, before landing on a smartly dressed, young man behind the counter. 

“Good afternoon ladies,” the man greeted them over-cheerfully; his name badge said ‘Ivor’. 

“Welcome to The Rada.”

“Reservation for Mills,” Regina said coolly as she reached the desk, her tone deftly communicating that she was in no mood for small talk.

“Of course, Ma’am,” Ivor said through a forced smile; his manor portraying that he was no stranger to the manor with which the mayor addressed him. He shifted his attention to Emma fleetingly, giving her attire a disapproving once-over, before dropping his gaze to the computer screen in front of him.

Emma’s mouth dropped open at his blatant rudeness, and suddenly feeling very out of place, she self consciously sidled in closer to Regina - who at least looked like she belonged.

As the blonde fought the urge to shout _‘screw you Ivor; I’m a fucking princess’,_ Mayor Mills seemed oblivious to the exchange as she drummed her fingers impatiently on the marble reception desk.

“Ah, yes, Ms Mills,” Ivor said with a smile so insincere it had even Regina narrowing her eyes. “You’ll be pleased to know that we had a cancellation this morning and as a result, we have upgraded you to a suite.”

“You’re kidding?” Emma said, genuine surprise gracing her features.  
Regina scowled over her shoulder at the outburst and was little startled at the blonde’s proximity; she took a step sideways to put some space back between them.

“Sorry,” the blonde mumbled as she folded her arms over her chest. “I’ve just never been upgraded before.”

Regina sighed. “Apparently,” she turned her attention back to Ivor. “We accept.”

xXx

Minutes later, the ladies arrived at their suite. Emma, who had practically bounded like a child the whole way to the room, eagerly swiped the key card through the reader and swung open the door.

“Wow!” She said, a bright smile lighting up her face as she entered the room; it looked to the sheriff like they’d been transported back to 18thcentury France. Antique wooden furniture and delicate floral fabric filled the large space; there were two arm chairs, a coffee table, a chaise-lounge and in the centre of the room stood an ornately carved four poster bed.

The blonde looked to Regina, expecting the brunette to be sharing in her enthusiasm, but instead she looked horrified. Emma followed the mayor’s gaze and realised that in her excitement, she had overlooked one slight detail; there was only one bed.

“This won’t do,” Regina stated flatly, and Emma noticed a blush colouring the brunette’s cheeks as she crossed the room to the phone on the bedside table. “The other room had twin beds – I’ll just call the desk and have them switch us back.”

_What? No!_

“Regina wait,” Emma quickly closed down the space between them and grabbed the mayor’s arm to prevent her from making the call. The brunette turned to look at the hand clasping her arm before, bring her questioning gaze to meet the blondes.

“Emma, what on earth-?”

The saviour released her grip, her hands swiftly retreating to the confines of her jean pockets – suddenly feeling uncomfortable under Regina’s scrutiny. She dipped her head and shrugged her shoulders before offering a simple explanation, “I don’t want to switch back.”

“There’s one bed, Emma.”

“I know that but,” the blonde sat down heavily on the bed before flopping backwards onto mattress and looking up at the floral valance. “It’s so pretty.”

Regina crossed her arms over her chest and frowned down at the blonde.

“Look,” Emma propped herself up on her elbows. “Just hear me out.”

“I’m listening.”

“This is like, the biggest,” she gestured with her hands. “damn bed I have ever seen.”

“What’s your point, Swan?”

“That maybe there’s space for the both of us?” She asked sheepishly.

“No,” Regina shook her head firmly. “Absolutely not.”

“Look, I get it okay,” Emma pushed herself up to a seated position. “You don’t want to share a bed with me  
\- but I promise to keep to my side.”  
“Emma,” the brunette protested.

“I’m not even a cuddly sleeper, I swear,” the blonde continued her plea. “I’m more of a hug-and-roll kinda girl.”

“A what?”

“Friend’s reference,” Emma waved her arm in the air. “Doesn’t matter – but what does matter is,” she paused and sighed, her posture visibly deflating with the breath. “Regina you grew up with money; you were a Queen and I... I’ve never stayed anywhere as nice as this,” she poked her bottom lip out in a pout. 

“Please don’t make me downgrade.”

Regina arched a single eyebrow. “Has that expression ever actually worked on anybody?”

“You?” Emma painted a hopeful smile on her face, after seeing the softness forming in her friend’s gaze.  
Regina looked to the ceiling with a groan and rolled her eyes, “Alright, fine,” she dropped her hands to rest on her hips and fixed the saviour with a stare. “But if you so much as breathe on my side of the bed, you’ll find yourself sleeping on the floor.”

xXx

“Are you sure you don’t want to come to the spa with me?” Emma asked hopefully as she emerged from the bathroom in search of a band for her hair; after the snobbish look she’d gleamed from Ivor on reception, the blonde didn’t relish the thought of going to the spa alone.

“I’m quite sure, thank you.” Regina answered from her position on the bed. She was propped up against two pillows with her legs crossed at her heels - flicking through a copy of Vogue that she’d found on the coffee table.

Emma was pretty sure that the brunette had never been to a day spa before - considering the lack of indoor plumbing in the Enchanted Forest and all – and the blonde was convinced that she’d love it.

“You’ll love it,” the saviour voiced her thoughts. “There’s a heated pool and a hot tub and...”

“I said no, Emma,” the mayor said more sternly, her gaze not shifting from the magazine on her lap. “I’m not here on vacation.”

“Oh,” Emma felt her stomach drop.

_I’m treating this like a vacation! How could I have been so insensitive?_

“God. Regina, I’m so sorry,” the blonde felt the pangs of guilt and took a step towards the bed. “There’s me going on about the room and the spa; I just got carried away - I didn’t even think-”

“I didn’t mean that you shouldn’t go,” the brunette’s eyes shifted from her magazine for the first time since Emma had re-entered the room and she faltered slightly; her gaze darting down the length of Emma’s body – before it was quickly averted “And I can see that you’re already dressed for it.”

The blonde looked down at her own her attire; she was dressed in an old green halter-neck bikini that hadn’t seen the light of day since before she arrived in Storybrooke. “Regina, I-”

“Seriously,” the mayor sighed as she closed the issue of Vogue and placed it on the bedside table, before reaching for the TV remote. “Go,” she said with a nod of her head in the direction of the door, but still didn’t look at the blonde. “There’s no sense in us both being miserable.”

Emma chewed the inside of her mouth contemplatively.

It was always one step forwards, two steps back with the brunette – and the blonde found it dizzying. A conversation that started off light between them, could descend into an argument so quickly, that often, the Sheriff didn’t even see the shift coming until it was too late.

It was like she was constantly walking on eggshells.  
“Regina, I don’t have to go,” Emma pressed. “We can stay in the room and talk...and stuff,”

“Emma,” Regina closed her eyes and exhaled through her nose. “For the love of God-”

“Okay” the blonde said and took a step backwards, her palms held up defensively. “As long as you’re sure?”

“I’m sure,” the brunette answered flatly and opened her eyes again as she pointed the remote at the  
widescreen TV.

In light of recent circumstances, Regina’s moods were more erratic than usual and it made the blonde feel constantly on edge; always anticipating that her next comment might be the catalyst for yet another argument.

It wasn’t just the pregnancy hormones - granted they didn’t help - but Emma knew that the brunette was really hurting. Any glimpses of this pain that Regina allowed the saviour to see, where quickly snatched back - covered up with an acid comment and buried underneath hostility.

The fact the saviour had been the one that the brunette had initially trusted with her secret, made it all the more frustrating that she kept clamming up.

_I just want her to talk to me._

Resigning to the fact that she would be going to the spa alone, Emma sighed and turned her back on Regina, before dipping at the waist to retrieve a hair tie from her duffle bag.

“How you eat like you do, and still manage to look like that - it’s beyond me,” the mayor said from behind 

Emma and the blonde stood up straight, startled - pausing in the middle of tying her hair back.

“Uh, what?” She twisted to look over her shoulder at the mayor – who for the most part seemed too absorbed in trying to turn on the television to have even noticed the impact of her words.

But they’d had an impact – one that Emma didn’t completely understand.

She felt herself blush.

It wasn’t as if the blonde had never been complimented on her figure before; the saviour had always been slim (scrawny even, as a kid) and was used to people making the connection between the amount of food she ate on a daily basis and her body shape.

Sure she worked out, she had to otherwise she got antsy, but when people complimented her on her physique, Emma would usually shrug it off shyly, say her thanks and change the subject. But now, hearing those words from Regina of all people, whilst the saviour stood there in her bikini, in their luxurious hotel suite, with the four poster bed...It felt different.

It felt weirdly, good different.

Emma frowned.

What does that mean?

Shaking her head, as if to dislodge the answer to her unspoken question, the blonde finished securing her hair and turned to face the brunette, who was still focussed on trying to turn on the TV.

_A little too focussed..._

_Is me wearing a bikini making her uncomfortable?_

“Regina,” at that thought, Emma found her words and her legs as she moved slowly towards the closet near the bed to retrieve a robe and slippers. “Did you just say something nice?”

“Hardly,” the mayor scoffed, shifting on the bed before looking downwards and straightening invisible creases out of her dress. “I think you’ll find that I just insulted your diet.”

 _I am making her uncomfortable_.

_What the hell does that mean?_

“Hey,” Emma picked up, then dropped the slippers on the floor by her feet before stepping into them. “As back-handed as that compliment was,” Emma shrugged on a white terrycloth robe. “I’m keeping it.”

“Whatever makes you happy, dear.” Regina said distractedly, looking a little flustered as she pressed down more heavily on the buttons of the TV remote, before slapping it against her palm irritably.

“You want a hand with that before I go?” Emma asked, in reference to the TV – taking pity on the brunette as she finally covered herself up and secured the belt around her waist.

She’d had her fun.

“I didn’t arrive in the last curse,” Regina snapped and this time she shot eye-daggers at the blonde, before opening the back of the remote to take out the batteries. “I know how to operate a TV.”

“Suit yourself,” Emma sighed heavily and turned to collect her phone from a side table where it was charging.

She walked towards the door and paused as she grabbed the handle. Their exchange had left the saviour with a sense of unease - not from suffering Regina’s wrath, that was nothing new – but with her own blatant desire to push the brunettes buttons.

 _It’s what I always do._ Emma finally acknowledged, an epiphany of sorts. _It’s what we always do._

The blonde glanced over her shoulder to see the mayor rubbing the batteries from the TV remote in between her palms in a feeble effort to distract herself, and Emma found herself wondering if Regina was aware of this fact too.

“I’ll see you in a couple of hours,” the blonde said with her back to the room, before leaving the brunette to her own devices.  
xXx  
As soon as Emma left the room, Regina launched the remote control from her hand; it hit the wall by the door and fell to the ground in several pieces.

She clenched her hands into fists and closed her eyes tightly – breathing deeply through her nose in an effort to compose herself.

_What the hell is wrong with me?_

Sadly, the mayor already knew the answer to her own question.

Regina was tired, stressed, her hormones were making her irritable and Emma Swan parading around half naked had surfaced another insufferable side to her pregnancy; an increased libido.

_How in the hell..?_

With the amount of retching and lack of sleep she was currently enduring, how her traitorous body even had the energy to react at all was a complete mystery to the brunette - yet all it had taken was a pretty girl in a bikini and she was good to go.

It was most embarrassing.

Opening her eyes and swinging her legs off of the bed, Regina decided that maybe it was best if she had a shower. A really cold one.  
The brunette lifted her travel bag onto the bed and unzipped it, fishing out her toiletry bag and silk pyjamas; hoping that once she was rid of the frustration she could get a little more sleep in before the blonde and her bikini returned.

Regina sighed. The issue wasn’t really that she had been aroused by something as simple as a show of flesh; it was whose flesh it was and how transparent the mayor had been in her own reaction.  
There was blushing and fussing and the avoidance of eye contact; her behaviour was certainly less than refined.

Regina entered the large bathroom, turned on the shower and reached behind herself to unzip her dress.  
If she were honest with herself, the mayor had always found Emma attractive; even when she had hated the blonde and punched her in the face - she still wasn’t blind to the saviour’s favourable physical attributes.

Since they had put their differences aside, the brunette had gradually found the blonde to be less irksome, yet still only tolerable in small doses. More recently however, after Camelot, after the underworld, after their time spent together over this past week - Regina had to admit that she did like having the blonde around.

The queen had learnt, from watching TV and reading books, that in this World Without Magic, the world where Emma grew up, there was an incessant need to label and categorise one’s sexual orientation. Regina had never understood this fascination, but if Emma was to be labelled by society – then the brunette would have pegged her as straight. 

Sure, she had some qualities that this world stereotyped as ‘gay’ - flat hideous shoes, always wearing pants, general tomboyish-ness, but with the string of men that Emma had already clocked up during her short time in Storybrooke - Regina had never (rarely) entertained the possibility that Snow White’s daughter might in fact be a little...Queer. 

But Emma had known full well that Regina was flustered by her near nakedness; she had noticed this and she had played on it.

_And maybe flirted a little?_

The brunette sighed and looked at herself in the full length mirror; she brought her hand down to her abdomen as she stared at her own naked reflection.

Now was not the time to be contemplating Emma Swan.

Regina realised in that moment that today, for the first time in almost two months, she hardly thought about Robin at all - and guilt washed over her like a tidal wave.

Her face crumbled and her eyes welled with tears; her soulmate had only been gone for seven weeks – she was still carrying his child and yet here she was, already thinking about somebody else.

 _Who does that?_ She clenched her jaw to hold back the tears. _What the hell’s wrong with me?_

Before any feelings she might be having were given serious thought – Regina needed a clear head; a  
head that wasn’t swimming in pregnancy induced oxytocin. 

After tomorrow – things could get back to normal.

Turning, the brunette stepped slowly into the shower and turned the brass handle towards cold – letting the cool water cleanse her skin, distract her mind and wash away her tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, please let me know your thoughts.  
> It’s hard to break into an established fandom as a new writer; many readers (obviously not you guys!) sort stories to read by the number of kudos & comments. So you see, to increase my readership...I really need your help


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to BuzzyBee2212 for the beta!

Feeling rejuvenated, Emma made her way back to the room; she boarded the elevator, hit the button for the second floor and secured her robe tighter around her waist. A long swim and a soak in the hot tub had allowed the blonde to gain some much-needed perspective; she only hoped that their time apart had allowed Regina to do the same.

She combed her fingers through her thick blonde hair, the ends of which were still damp from the pool, and thought about what awaited her back at the suite. Despite feeling calmer about the whole situation, the Saviour’s stomach fluttered slightly as she disembarked the elevator; the atmosphere before she’d left the room had been strained, to say the least.

Over the past week, there had been a shift in the dynamic between herself and Regina. There was a new tension between them now; the feeling was more complex, but definitely no less intense than the animosity that used to reside there. What it meant or where it would eventually lead them, Emma couldn’t even begin to comprehend – and who could blame her? The brunette had been blowing hot and cold at such a rate, that the saviour was having a hard time keeping up. What had happened however, as a direct result of this erratic behaviour, was that the sheriff had lost sight of the real reason they had left Storybrooke in the first place – the pregnancy.

Whatever was or wasn’t happening in, or to their fledgling friendship, it wasn’t important. This wasn’t about the saviour’s own sensibilities; this trip was about Regina and hers; Emma just needed to be there for her friend.

_It’s that simple._

The blonde reached suite, swiped the key card through the reader and with a deep breath, pushed open the door.

The room was darker than when she’d left; fading rays of daylight seeped in around the closed blind – forming a slatted pattern across the empty, unmade bed. The Mayor was nowhere to be seen.

Emma placed her phone on the side table by the door and took a step into the room, her slipper clad foot creating a crunching sound as she stepped on what looked like part of a broken TV remote.

_Great._

“Regina?” The blonde rolled her eyes and side-stepped the carnage as she moved further into the room. “I see you go the TV working,” she joked. 

The sound of glass smashing, followed by a whispered “shit”, sounded from behind the closed bathroom door and Emma rushed towards it.

“Regina?” She called again, her hand poised on the door handle.

“In here,” came the strained response. “I’m in here.”

Emma swung open the door to the bathroom to find the Regina sitting on the side of the tub with her elbow resting on the washbasin. She wore grey silk pyjamas and her hair was a mess of unruly curls. At her bare feet, surrounding her painted toes, lay the source of the sound, a shattered drinking glass.

“I got sick again,” the brunette said, looking truly defeated. “I was brushing my teeth and I felt a little faint...” she sniffed, her shoulders slumping forward, her hair hanging in front of her face as she waved an arm in the direction of the broken glass, instead of verbally finishing her sentence.

“Well, I’m not surprised,” Emma said, with a sympathetic tone. “When was the last time you ate anything but M&M’s?”

“Yesterday,” Regina looked sheepishly at the blonde. “Lunch time.”

“Regina,” the blonde softly scalded.

“I know,” the brunette rolled her eyes and pushed a hand through her unruly hair; it was longer now than Emma ever remembered seeing it. “I just can’t seem to keep anything down.”

“Okay,” Emma said softly as she crouched to clear up the glass. “Don’t move.”

“Emma, don’t be ridiculous; I can do it...” the Mayor moved to stand, but when the sheriff instinctively stopped her movements with a hand to her thigh – the brunette froze and Emma heard her inhale sharply in response. Scared that she’d overstepped a mark and was about to be admonished, the saviour cautiously lifted her gaze and saw her own hesitancy mirrored in the Regina’s eyes; she noticed the flush that was covering her olive skin; even through the cool silk of her pyjama’s, the brunette’s skin felt warm against Emma’s palm.

“Emma,” Regina said breathily, and that single word was enough to break the spell. The blonde snatched her hand away quickly and held it against her body – reacting as if she had been burnt.

“Your feet are bare,” the sheriff practically barked in explanation, before stealing herself as she dropped her gaze to the floor – and kept it there. “You might cut yourself,” she added as she collected some of the larger bits of glass, suddenly very aware that her voice had developed a rasp. “I’ve got this.”

As Regina settled back on the tub with a sigh, an awkward silence filled the space between them – and to Emma’s surprise, it was the brunette that broke it. “This is starting to become a thing, Miss Swan,” she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

Emma cautioned a confused glance upwards and despite how exhausted the brunette looked – the blonde could the amusement in her expression. “You, rescuing you me from a bathroom.”

A smile tugged at Emma’s lips as she lowered her eyes again to collect the last of the glass. “A damsel in distress,” she quipped as she got to her feet.

“I guess that makes you my knight in a towelling bathrobe,” Regina countered, looking up at the blonde with a smile of her own.

Despite the light heartedness, Emma felt her cheeks redden at Regina’s words and she swiftly moved to drop the glass into the waste paper basket, effectively hiding her blush from the brunette’s gaze. 

“So,” The blonde turned on the washbasin faucet to rinse away the fine shavings of broken glass that still shimmered against her skin. “Did you sleep at all?” 

“A little,” Regina leant forwards and grabbed a damp washcloth from the side of the washbasin. She draped her hair over her left shoulder, and placed the sodden material at the base of her neck. “I’m just so tired of feeling like this,” she closed her eyes and inhaled slowly before opening them again. “The sickness has never been this bad before.”  
“Do you think that it could still be a reaction to the potion?” Emma asked as she turned to face the brunette, and leant against the sink. Upon noticing that Regina was attempting to cool her neck with the washcloth, the blonde wordlessly removed a hair tie from around her own wrist, and offered it to her friend.

“Thanks,” the mayor smiled weakly as she accepted the proffered item. Placing the washcloth back on the sink, Regina piled her hair up in a most unqueenly fashion, and secured it with the band, ensuring the weight was off of her neck before answering Emma’s question. “It could be,” she frowned. “I’ve not really felt like myself since.”

For her part, Emma was no longer following their conversation; instead she found herself entirely transfixed. The (formerly Evil) Queen was sitting in her pyjamas, her usually coifed hair was in a dishevelled up-do and she didn’t have a scrap of makeup on her face.

She wore no armour; she was just Regina and to Emma, she had never looked more beautiful.

Emma averted her gaze to look down at her own feet, conscious of staring; her thoughts were confused, her feelings conflicted.

_Now isn’t the time,_ the blonde internally quashed her emotion with a cleansing breath - ignoring the warmth in her chest, that yearned for attention. _Later...We can address this later._

_If Regina even gives me the chance..._

The brunette was finally opening up, just like the Saviour had wanted – but now instead of being pleased, fresh panic was twisting the blondes gut; regardless of how much closer they had become, once this was all over, Regina’s pride could win out and their newly borne closeness...it could become the ultimate casualty.

It was a very sobering thought.

“I honestly can’t wait for this all to be over,” the brunette said in a tone that snapped the sheriff out of her reverie; it was as if Regina had just voiced Emma’s worst fears. “Then everything can just go back to normal.” As the mayor’s words were spoken with a finality that didn’t quite reach her eyes, the saviour relaxed a little and smiled softly in understanding.

“So,” the blonde crossed her arms over her chest and dipped her chin. “Do you think you’re done being sick for this round?”

“I think so,” the brunette inhaled deeply, straightening her spine and rubbing her abdomen. “But it’s hard to know for sure.”

“Okay,” Emma said as pushed herself away from the washbasin. “Wait here a second,” the blonde disappeared to return moments later with another pair of slippers from the closet. “I think I got most of the glass, but there might still be some on the floor so,” she placed the footwear on the floor by Regina’s feet and gestured for her to put them on. When the brunette didn’t budge, Emma stood to find the brunette staring back at her – an unreadable expression on her face. 

“What?” Emma asked with a frown, as the mayor’s eyes glistened with moisture and a soft smile tugged at her lips. Without breaking eye contact, Regina slowly placed her feet into the slippers and rose to stand, before closing the space between them and placing a solitary kiss to the blonde’s cheek.

“Thank you, Emma,” she whispered, before sidestepping the saviour and leaving the bathroom.

“Um...welcome,” by the time Emma found her words, she was already alone. She raised a hand slowly to her cheek as the emotions she’d managed to stifle earlier, were drawn back to the surface. 

The Saviour looked at herself in the bathroom mirror and her flushed reflection stared knowingly back; she was no longer confused – Emma knew that she had feelings for Regina.

 

xXx

When Regina awoke for a second time, it was dark outside; the glowing red lights on the bedside clock (which in her opinion, wasn’t particularly in-keeping with the room décor) confirmed that she had managed to sleep for a couple of hours.

Feeling victorious, and finally well-rested, the brunette twisted onto her back and stretched – her stiff joints popping and groaning in protest. Relaxing back into the pillow, she turned her head, half expecting to find a sleeping saviour, but the sheets on the other side of the bed appeared undisturbed.  
Regina lifted herself into a seated position, resting back on her arms as she surveyed the darkened room. Light shining around the closed bathroom door confirmed her suspicions and she flopped back down onto the mattress and rested an arm over her eyes.

She’d kissed Emma – albeit a peck to the cheek, but it was a loaded one all the same. There was something building steadily between them, and the harder Regina fought against it, the more she felt drawn towards the blonde. After what had transpired in the bathroom earlier, how the sheriff had reacted...the mayor now assumed that Emma must feel it too.

It was the worst timing in the worlds.  
Absently, her hand had drifted to rest over her abdomen where her pyjama shirt had ridden up, and she flexed her fingers over the soft skin there; her thoughts darkening in an instant. She brought another hand down to rest atop the first and closed her eyes. 

With Robin, once she finally gotten around to it, acknowledging her feelings for him had been more...straight forward. He had the lion tattoo, they were destined to be together and Regina never really questioned it once they were because, well, because he was Robin. He had paid attention to her in a way that nobody since Daniel had; he’d been persistent, he’d broken down walls and truthfully, she was incredibly flattered. There was an affection he offered that she had not experienced before; being with him was effortless (aside from external sisterly influences) and the brunette had thought that maybe that’s what a soulmate was – a person that you were so in tune with, that it was easy to just simply be with them.

Emma...Emma was different.

Her feelings towards the Saviour had certainly always felt emotionally charged. There had always been an energy between them; Regina had her suspicions it had as much to do with magic, as it had chemistry. She had said it herself, the line between love and hate is thin and although their hostility towards each other had fizzled out, that passion remained. It festered between them with no outlet, and now they were on a trip together, sharing a room together...

_It’s like being in a damned pressure cooker._

But it wasn’t just that.

Regina, was no stranger to lust-filled liaisons, and as a Queen, if she had an itch, she’d have someone scratch it – but what had happened tonight between Emma and herself, had begun to blur the line between carnal desire and her newly discovered need for affection.

Robin had been the first person to breeched that gap, but he had not done so with the ferocity and passion of Emma Swan – and Regina had no idea what that meant.

The brunette rubbed her face and stared up at the ceiling.

_This is all such a mess._

Tomorrow she had to destroy the very product of her and Robin’s love, the last piece of him that existed in this world. She’d been a fool to think that she could just brush it off, that what she had to do tomorrow would be simple – that it wouldn’t have emotional repercussions. Devastation, guilt, sorrow... Tomorrow would inevitably be one of the hardest days of her life and she was powerless to stop it.

The first time that Regina discovered she was pregnant, she was elated; she’d thought it a miracle and although nervous, had looked forward, as any expectant mother would. She’d received gifts from (terrified) well-wishers, arranged a nursery and as she felt her baby growing inside of her, she had even allowed herself to indulge in silly fantasies, wondering what her child would look like, how their life together would be...

It had been futile.

The queen had given birth to her first baby just 5 and a half months into her pregnancy; exhausted, confused and heartbroken, she had held the tiny, lifeless body in her arms and had cried.  
It took countless prevention spells, the failed work (and subsequent deaths) of the best physicians in the Enchanted Forest and several more dead infants to confirm to Regina that her potions cruel twist, was indeed unbreakable. 

Regina had scarcely gotten to make decisions that affected her own life; even the decisions she thought she had made, were simply plans set in course by her mother or Rumple. The decision to prevent her from having a child had been hers and hers alone, and it was the one thing from her life in the Enchanted Forest that she regretted most of all; the irony of it stung, just like the tears that now pricked at her eyes.

A mumbling from the bathroom interrupted her thoughts and Regina lifted herself to a seated position again; wiping to moisture from her eyes, she strained her ears to listen.

She heard it again, and surmised that Emma must be on the phone.

Throwing off the floral blankets and swinging her legs off of the bed, the mayor padded barefoot towards the bathroom, to see if the Saviour was talking to their son, but she paused as she reached the door and Emma’s words became clearer.

“Henry, we’ve talked about this and I told you to leave it.”

Regina felt her stomach drop, she seldom heard Emma speak to their son in that tone.

“I don’t care what it says in the book, kid. It’s your mothers’ decision.”

The Mayor’s eyes widened in realisation; that was what had been wrong with Henry, why he’d been so preoccupied – he thought he could find a cure for the potion - _and Emma knew what he was doing._

“Well, your grandparents shouldn’t have gotten involved – it’s none of their business.” 

_And the Charming’s knew?_

The latter was the final straw and Regina burst open the bathroom door, to find a startled Emma, now dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, perched on the side of the tub where the queen herself had been sat, just two hours earlier.

“I’ll call you back,” Emma muttered into the phone and held it to her chest, taking in Regina’s posture and expression with wide eyes. “Is there any chance you didn’t hear that?”

“What in the hell gives you the right to keep this from me?” Regina boomed, from the doorway, her hands placed firmly on her hips. “I’ve been worried sick.”

“What?” Emma asked, her brow furrowing in confusion as she got to her feet.

“Henry,” Regina spat. “I’ve been worried about him this past few days, and I shared my concern with you.”

“I know but,”

“You knew what he was doing Emma and you lied to me – you lied to me about our son.”

“Regina, I was doing it to protect you,” the held her palms out in front of her, the right one still clutching her phone. “You said you had no choice, you said that you had to go through with it,” she tried to explain. “Honestly, Regina – with what you’re already going through, I thought I was doing you a favour.”

“That was my decision to make,” she said flatly. “I would have wanted to deal with it before I left, not have it affect my relationship with Henry once I get home.”

“Regina, this will not affect your relationship with him,” Emma took a tentative step forward. “He understands, but he understands like a teenager that was raised by fairy-tale characters,” she shrugged. “He believes in magic – to him the possibilities are endless.”

Regina scoffed. “And now I hear that the two idiots are involved?”

“Well, yeah,” Emma tucked her hair behind her ear. “That’s the weird thing, apparently King George once gave my mother a potion to prevent her from ever having a child.”

Regina frowned. “But you’re...”

“Here,” Emma raised her eyebrows. “Yeah, I know. Apparently, she drank water from a lake that reversed the potion – a lake Westeros or something.”

“It’s called Lake Nostos,” Regina quirked an eyebrow sceptically and crossed her arms over her chest. “And that lake dried up many years ago when your idiot father slayed the Siren.”

“I know, that’s Henry said. In fact, I’m pretty sure it’s the same place Mom and I went to when we created the portal to return home from-”

“I’m not interested in your family vacations, Miss Swan!” Regina snapped, growing impatient. “I’m interested in my son and how your failure to let me know about his behaviour has now resorted in your entire family interfering in my private business.”

“I’m sorry, okay?”

“No Miss Swan, it is very much not okay. As if tomorrow isn’t going to be hard enough, I now have to deal with the fallout of your poor parenting upon our return.”

“My poor parenting?” Emma was biting her tongue, Regina could tell. “You know what, your majesty?” The blonde held up her hands in surrender and pushed past Regina into the bedroom. “I’ve said that I’m sorry, and you know that I meant well,” she grabbed her red jacket and boots from the sitting area and headed towards the door. “Why don’t you give our son a call and speak to him yourself – put some of your own perfect parenting skills to work.”

“And where are you going?” Regina called after her, irritation still evident in her tone.

“To see if this place has a bar.”

xXx

Emma Swan was drunk off her ass.

She sat at the bar on a tall stool, elbow on the counter, chin resting on her hand, in a sullen stance. The saviour knew that she stuck out like a sore thumb in the hotel’s fancy cocktail bar – clad in denim and drinking her beer and whiskey chasers - but she couldn’t bring herself to care. Regina was paying for them to stay there – _so fuck the hotel’s snooty dress code._

The blonde sighed as she attempted to peal the label slowly off her fourth bottle of Budweiser; frustratingly, there wasn’t enough condensation to allow the whole label to come off in one go – so instead it curled off in thin strips, leaving a sticky residue on the glass bottle.

“I can’t even do that right,” she mumbled into her palm, and her vocalisation wasn’t missed by the bartender.

“So,” the man said as he edged closer to the blonde, using the pretence of wiping at the bar with a towel. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Emma looked up at him, but didn’t lift her head; her gaze flicked to his name tag. “You wouldn’t get it, Andrew.”

“Try me,” Andrew said with a smirk and rested his weight on his hands, on the opposite side of the bar to Emma. “You’d be surprised at the stories I hear working behind this bar.”

Emma hummed and pursed her lips, finally sitting back in her seat, taking her Budweiser with her and cradling it on the chair between her thighs. “Alright,” she said, excepting his challenge with a raised eyebrow and a defiant chin. “I’ve got the hots for my friend, but she’s pregnant with her dead boyfriend’s baby.”

Andrew looked temporarily stunned – but to his credit, recovered quickly. “Okay, I admit, that’s a new one on me.”

“Told ya,” Emma said, tilting the neck of her beer towards him before taking another swig.

“So,” Andrew leant further into the bar and scanned their surroundings. “Are you here with your friend?”

Emma rolled her eyes and placed her beer on the counter, before nudging an empty glass tumbler towards him. “Hit me,” she said as she nodded towards the glass. “One more for the road, and then we can talk.”

The barman surveyed her sceptically; they both knew that the blonde didn’t really need another drink – however his desire to hear the rest of her story eventually won out and he tipped a good measure of amber liquid into the tumbler.

“She hates me right now,” Emma mumbled around the brim of the glass as she took a sip of the acrid liquid, relishing in the burn she felt traveling down her throat.

“Why?”

“It’s,” Emma eyed Andrew cautiously; she wasn’t too drunk to realise that she couldn’t say too much about their life in Storybrooke without sounding like a whack-job. “Complicated.”

“Did you do something to upset her?”

“She wants to get rid of her baby,” Emma said, her tone devoid of any emotion.

“What?” Andrew’s face twisted in confusion. “Her dead boyfriend’s baby? Why would she want to do that?”

“Complications with previous pregnancies,” Emma waved her free hand in the air in a dismissive motion. “She says she can’t have it – but here’s the thing,” Emma leant forward slightly, pointed a finger at Andrew, and narrowed her eyes. “I can tell when people are lying.”

“Sure you can,” Andrew agreed in good barman fashion and Emma decided to ignore the blatant disbelief in his tone; her super power was a lot to swallow for a mere muggle.

“I think that she’s too afraid to try,” she said simply. “Because of how traumatic it was for her before.”

“Well, that’s understandable.”

“I know, right,” Emma took another sip. “But things are different in this wor-” she swiftly corrected herself. “Here. Things are different here and there might just be a way-” 

“But her getting rid of the baby,” Andrew interjected. “Wouldn’t that be good for you?”

“Come again?” Emma frowned at him over her tumbler.

“Well, I may be playing Devil’s Advocate here - but if she’s not pregnant with the dead dude’s baby – isn’t that good for you?”

Emma’s frown deepened, before she rested back in her seat with a sigh. “You’d think so,” she drained the last of the whiskey and placed the glass back on the bar. “But the fucked-up thing is, I actually want her to have this baby.”

“You do?”

“Yeah,” Emma smiled softly and shook her head. “I really do.”

“Why?”

“Because I know that deep down, she wants to have this baby too,” the blonde shrugged. “And I want to see her happy.”

“Sounds to me like you’ve got more than just the hots for your friend,”

“What now?” Emma scowled at Andrew and he quickly pressed on.

“So, let’s say she has this kid,” he stood back and threw the bar towel over his shoulder. “Do you see yourself being a part of that - in raising someone else’s kid?”

“Why not?” Emma answered, without missing a beat. “She raised mine.”

“Wait,” now it was Andrew’s turn to frown. “What?”

“She adopted my son, that I had with Neil – he’s dead too you know. That’s how we met, actually.”

“You and Neil?”

“No, me and Regina,” Emma said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Keep up, man.”

“Right, sorry,” Andrew blew out a puff of air and pushed his hand through his short black hair. “Do you think she has feelings for you too?”

“I think that she might, but there’s the baby issue so...”

“Right,” Andrew crossed his arms over his chest. “The baby that you basically just told me isn’t even an obstacle.”

“Don’t get cocky, Andrew,” Emma chastised the barman and swiped her almost-empty beer from the bar.

“I’m sorry but,” the man sighed exasperatedly. “You already share a son with this lady?”

“That’s right,” Emma answered cautiously.

“And regardless of whether or not she has this baby, you see the possibility of a future with her?”

“I guess,” Emma paused and contemplated Andrew’s words; she truly hadn’t even thought that far ahead. Everything was still so new; the saviour had only just admitted to herself that she had feelings for Regina, and now she was what? Thinking about playing happy families? With any relationship demanding that kind of commitment, the blonde would usually turn and run a mile – but strangely, she still felt the desire to stay.

_That has to mean something._

“Ma’am,” Andrew, the wise, leant forward on the bar again, interrupting her musings with the million-dollar question. “Have you actually told your friend how you feel?”

xXx

When Emma awoke the next morning, it was to the beeping of an alarm clock on the bedside cabinet; it both sounded and felt like a hammer to her skull. She peeled her tongue from the roof of her mouth and with half closed eyes, rolled over to silence the offensive noise and to take several large gulps of water from a glass that she must have been mindful enough to place on the cabinet the night before. 

The blonde audibly moaned as the cool liquid soothed her parched throat and mouth, before placing the empty glass down on the side and wiping the residual droplets from her face.

She squinted as she surveyed the room, the light coming in from between the blinds assaulting her hungover state. Regina’s side of the bed was made, but the room was silent.

In answer to the dull ache of her bladder, Emma gingerly dropped her legs to the side of the bed and shuffled towards the bathroom. She realised half way that she was only dressed in her t-shirt and panties, but was way too exhausted to care.

“Regina?” She called, as she rapped lightly on the door. “Come on, I’ve really gotta go...”

When she was answered with nothing but a wall of silence, the blonde tried the handle - and the door swung open to reveal an empty bathroom.

“What the hell?” Emma frowned, and she turned to look back at the bed; the alarm clock said 10am.

_Regina’s appointment is at 10:00!_

She must have set the alarm to wake me up at this time.

The blonde rushed over to the nightstand, where it appeared that she’d missed a piece of paper and a couple of Advil.

**Emma, I assumed that after last night, that you could use a little more sleep – and a couple of aspirin. Don’t be mad. R.**

“Shit!”

Emma turned sharply and went in search of her pants and boots. The blonde couldn’t recall exactly what was said when she had returned to their hotel room last night – but it couldn’t have been that bad, right? Regina had left her tablets for her pain.

After pulling on her jeans, which she found by the couch, Emma wracked her brains for the name of the abortion clinic as she punched Regina’s name into her phone. She located her cell phone charging by the coffee table – also something that she was sure she hadn’t thought to do herself in a drunken state. 

_“You have reached the voicemail of Regina Mills-”_

“Shit!”  
Hangover and full bladder forgotten, Emma tugged on her boots and grabbed her jacket, before rushing from the hotel room after the brunette; she needed to be there for Regina, like she said she would... she only hoped that she wasn’t too late.  
TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Oh, and thank you for all the follows, favourites, kudos and reviews since my last post – it’s really motivating to know that you guys are enjoying it. 
> 
> You can probably guess that the next chapter will provide a sharp turning point in the storyline. I know from reviews received that there are readers in the pro-baby and no-baby camps – it’s going to be hard at this stage to please everyone. I only hope that regardless of which camp you are in, that you still give it a chance and stick with me till the end...I think (pray) that you’ll be pleasantly surprised on both sides.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to BuzzyBee2212 for giving this the critical once over, before I posted.
> 
> I am actually really nervous about posting this chapter, because of the strong opinions I have received from readers in both the 'pro baby' and 'no baby' camps. No writer ever wants to lose readers - but at THIS stage in the story, the only way I could satisfy everybody would be to give a way future plot twist. But where's the fun in reading a story like this, if there's no suspense? 
> 
> So...abortion wise - it's crunch time, people.

Regina, of course, had taken the Mercedes - leaving Emma stranded at the hotel. The blonde had hovered in reception as she waited for a cab, much to the distaste of Ivor on the Front Desk.

Today though, she couldn’t blame the snooty receptionist for the distasteful look he had given her, as she barked orders for him to book her a cab. Emma hadn’t so much as wiped the sleep from her eyes before she left the hotel room, and a quick glance in the ladies room mirror had confirmed that she did in fact look as terrible as she felt.

Just before her cab arrived, the saviour had grabbed a bottle of water from the hotel bar; her brain assaulting her with several flashbacks of her late night conversation with the barman as she did so.  
Not for the first time that morning, the saviour internally berated herself for drinking so much; she only wished she could remember what had happened once she had returned to the room. 

The last thing that Emma could clearly recall, was the barman asking her if she had actually told Regina how she felt.

Although the blonde was _pretty_ sure that no amount of alcohol in her system would have given her the confidence to do _that,_ there was still a sense of nagging doubt... 

_What the hell did I do to make Regina go to the appointment by herself?_

Everything still felt so new to Emma; so raw. Emotions that had felt so clear in her head as she spoke with the barman last night, felt so jumbled in the clear light of day. 

The former queen’s past and present was already so intrinsically woven into the saviour’s very existence – and if the Charming family tree didn’t make their situation complex enough, there was also the glaringly obvious fact that Regina...was a woman. 

Emma had never had sexual feelings for another woman before – and that’s exactly what they were – they were sexual feelings and that in itself was just...confusing. 

_I’m not attracted to women; I like men...But I am attracted to Regina, who’s a woman...a very womanly woman._ Emma scowled. _What the hell does that mean? Am I like, Bi now? What the hell will my parents think? What will Henry think? Is Regina even into women? Will she be horrified? Did I already voice all of this out loud and that’s the reason she left me at the hotel?_

The cab ride took about 30 minutes and by the time Emma arrived, she had worked herself up to a state of panic. As the vehicle pulled up to the abortion clinic, Emma spotted Regina’s car parked out front. Relieved that she hadn’t missed her, the blonde opened the cab door and moved to rush inside.

“Hey, lady!” The cab driver wound his window down and yelled at her retreating form – stopping the blonde her tracks. “We’re not a free service, you know.”

“Sorry,” Emma muttered as she retraced her steps to the vehicle and pushed a handful of bills into his hand, before quickly heading back towards the buildings entrance. She pulled open the door with a little too much swing, and found herself in a small foyer with a receptionist sat behind a glass window.

“Can I help you?” The receptionist was an older lady; she regarded Emma over her spectacles (complete with neck chain), which were perched on the edge of her nose.

“Yeah,” Emma rushed towards the desk and rested her hands on the window sill. “My friend is in here, I’m supposed to be with her.” The blonde craned her neck to see if she could see around the receptionist and into waiting room; it looked empty. “Can I go through please?”

“I can’t let you through without an appointment Ma’am,” the lady, who wore a name-tag that said Mary-Ellen shook her head. “It’s against the rules.” 

“Please,” Emma begged. “I’ve got to see her – I told her I’d be here.”

“That’s sweet,” Mary-Ellen smiled insincerely. “But I still can’t let you through without an appointment. It’s for security reasons, I’m sure you understand.” 

“I understand,” Emma sighed and pushed a hand through her hair. “Look,” she leant into the counter. “Can you at least get a message to her please? Tell her I’m here?”

The woman looked Emma up and down, her eyebrow raised, before she rolled her eyes and picked up a pen. “Okay,” she said. “What was her name?”

“Regina,” Emma said with a relieved smile, relaxing a little. “Regina Mills.”

The receptionists pen stopped moving, and she looked up from the notepad. “Ms Mills?” She asked, her eyebrows raised. “Brunette?”

“Yeah,” Emma frowned.

“Kinda rude?” 

“Yeah,” Emma nodded in agreement without missing a beat. “That’s her.” 

“Honey,” the lady put down the pen and clasped her hands over her note pad. “She already left.”

“What?” Emma asked. “Can you check? Her car’s still in your parking lot-”

“I’m telling you, she’s not here,” Mary-Ellen said sternly as she pushed her glasses further up her nose. “She left about 15 minutes ago,” the older lady got to her feet and looked over Emma’s shoulder, through a window and into the parking lot. “She wants to move her damned vehicle...”

“Okay,” Emma grumbled in response as she turned to exit. “Thanks.”

_Where the hell is she?_

Feeling confused, the Saviour pushed the exit door open slowly and stepped outside. As the door swung closed behind her, a particularly strong gust of wind caught her by surprise; her blonde tendrils whipped around and crossed her vision. As the sheriff turned her face into the wind, in order to blow the hair out of her line of sight - that’s when she saw her. 

_Regina!_

Emma’s heart thudded in her chest; Regina was sat on a park bench across the road, with her back to the clinic.

_Thank God._

The blonde quickly found her feet and jogged over to her friend; approaching her from the side, the saviour could see that the brunette was simply staring off into the distance, apparently deep in thought. Her arms were wrapped around the waist of her black woollen coat, her long hair was tucked into the red scarf that hung around her neck. 

“Regina,” Emma said, breathless, as she reached the bench; the brunette looked up, startled.

“Emma,” she frowned. “What are you doing here?”

“What do you mean what am I doing here?” Emma asked incredulously. “I told you I’d come with you – but you left my ass at the hotel!”

Regina opened her mouth to say something then closed it and looked back across the large green in front of her. “I thought that you could use the rest,” she said flatly before looking down at her hands where they now rested on her lap. “You were pretty drunk last night, Emma.”

The saviour swallowed, her throat feeling tight as she lowered herself to the bench to sit next to the brunette. “That may be true,” the blonde leant forward, her elbows on her knees and turned her head to look at Regina. “But that’s not the real reason you left me at the hotel.”

Regina glanced at Emma, and for a beat she looked like she might try to deny it – but instead she simply sighed and dropped her gaze back to her hands. “I thought that you might try to stop me,” she said in a voice so small that the saviour almost didn’t hear her.

“What?” The blonde sat up straight and twisted her body towards the brunette. “Regina, why would you even think that?” She asked, dreading the answer to her own question, even as she asked it. “I came on this trip with you so that you didn’t have to go through this alone.”

“I know that, Emma.” Regina raised her eyebrows and nodded, her gaze still focussed on her lap. “But then last night, when you got back to the room,” she turned her head to look at the blonde. “You said something that made me think differently.”

_Oh shit._ “I did?”

“Yes,” Regina narrowed her eyes. “You don’t remember, do you?”

_Oh my God, what the hell did I say?_

“It’s um-” Emma faltered; trying but failing to keep the concern from her expression. “It’s a bit of a blur.”

“Shocking,” Regina said with a sardonic expression on her face. “Tell me,” she cocked her head to one side. “Do you always sing while inebriated, or was that simply for my benefit?”

“I did not-” Emma’s eyes grew wide.

“Oh relax,” Regina rolled her eyes and shook her head, but didn’t discount it from being the truth. “You said that...” she paused as she shifted and angled her body towards the sheriff, her expression softening as she noticed the look of sheer panic on the blondes face. “Emma, you told me that if I wanted to keep the baby, that I shouldn’t be afraid,” she explained, a sadness fleetingly touching her features. “And in all of this,” she shrugged. “I hadn’t realised that I was.” 

“I said that?”

“You did,” Regina arched a single eyebrow curiously, at Emma’s relieved expression. “What on earth did you think you’d said to me, Emma?”

The blonde felt her face flush. “Nothing,” she lied and directed her gaze across the park. “I just have a tendency to run my mouth after a few drinks, that’s all.”

“You don’t say,” Regina said knowingly, before dropping her eyes to her lap once more. “You actually reminded me that my life is different now,” the brunette wet her lips with her tongue before continuing. “That even if the worst were to happen again – that I was now surrounded by people who would support me,” the mayor raised her head, and her eyes locking with the blondes, “...by people who love me.”

“Wow,” the blonde raised her eyebrows, her lips quirking into a sideways smile. “Drunk me said all that?”

“I’m paraphrasing,” Regina added quickly, as she looked back across the park; her eyes absently tracing the path of a man who was jogging in the distance. “Drunk you cursed more.”

“I curse like a sailor when I’m drunk,” Emma admitted, with a self deprecating smile. She pulled the bottle of water from her inside jacket pocket and followed the brunette’s gaze across the green as she took a swig. “I blame Hook.” 

In her peripheral vision, Emma saw the mayor turn her head sharply in her direction. “You never talk about him,” Regina said after a few moments; it wasn’t a question, but blonde answered it like it was. 

“It hurts,” she said, as she screwed the cap back on to the bottle, before placing it back in her pocket. Her admission about Killian was only a partial truth. It did hurt the saviour to talk about him – it hurt more to actually acknowledge how little he had been on her mind recently. Emma’s thoughts about Regina had been all encompassing; to be reminded of Hook made the blonde feel guilty, it made her feel selfish. 

“I know,” Regina said in understanding, and when the blonde finally turned to look back at the brunette, she offered Emma a sad smile.

“I wouldn’t have tried to stop you, you know. From having the abortion, I mean,” the sheriff said, moving the conversation swiftly on, but holding the brunette’s gaze. “I just wanted to be sure that you knew you weren’t alone,” she smiled thinly. “We would have supported you regardless of the decision, Regina,” the blonde moved to retrieve the brunettes hand and hold it in the space between them on the bench – suddenly realising how natural it felt to touch the other woman now. “I _wil_ l support you.”

The brunette’s eyes searched the blondes; much like she had when Emma had first agreed to come with her to the clinic. Regina’s expression was one of bewilderment; it looked to the sheriff like the mayor couldn’t believe that somebody would be there for her; it was as if she thought that she somehow didn’t deserve it...and that thought broke Emma’s heart.

“Regina, you must realise how much I care about you,” the blonde said, wrapping the brunettes cool hand in both of hers and drawing it into her own lap. “Please don’t shut me out,” she brushed a thumb over the back of the mayor’s hand. “I support you in this decision, completely.”

“Well,” Regina smiled shyly, a faint blush colouring her cheeks as she dropped her gaze to look at their joined hands. “That’s good to hear, Emma,” the brunette croaked, her voice laden with emotion, and when she looked back up at the blonde, her eyes were welling with unshed hears. “Because I didn’t do it.”

“You,” the blonde stuttered. “You didn’t have the abortion?”

Regina shook her head, her tears now falling freely down her cheeks, an fitful smile tugging at her lips.

“You didn’t,” Emma repeated, and this time it wasn’t a question. “Oh my God, Regina.”

Emma dropped the brunettes hand and instead, pulled her by her shoulders into a hug; Regina released a choked half laugh, half sob in response. “Oh my God,” Emma said again as she sat back, keeping her hands on Regina’s upper arms. “Regina, this is huge.”

“I know,”

“I mean,” Emma shook her head; she was utterly taken aback. “Was it me that changed your mind or-”

“Partially,” the brunette raised her hands to wipe the tears from her cheeks. “And Henry,” she dropped her hands and they automatically found Emma’s again. “It appears that our son and your parents have been concocting a plan that might just work – something that I hadn’t even considered...”

“The lake thing? It could work?”

“I honestly don’t know,” a solemn expression flashed across Regina’s face. “We can’t be sure, which is why the abortion is still on the table – at least for now,” she continued. “I spoke with a nurse at the clinic and I still have some time,” the brunette paused, as if searching for the right words. “I still have some time, to be sure.”

“I understand,” Emma smiled again, her heart swelling in her chest as she felt tears prickling at her own eyes. 

“I’m not promising anything,” Regina shook her head, lowering her gaze. “But I owe it to the baby to find out, and of course I owe it to Robin to-”

“Hey,” Emma interrupted the mayor again, tugging on her hand. “What the hell?” The blonde asked incredulously. “You don’t owe anybody anything,” she shook her head. “Please tell me that you’re not doing this to appease me, or for the baby, or even for Robin. Regina,” Emma raised a hand to cup the brunette’s cheek, drawing her gaze. “Do _you_ want to keep this baby?” 

“I do,” the brunette said, nodding, her chin trembling slightly. “More than anything in the worlds.”

“Then I will do absolutely _everything_ within my power to make that happen,” Emma ran her thumb over Regina’s damp cheek bone, wiping away a stray tear. “Do you hear me?” She dipped her head to look into the brunette’s eyes. “I’ll do _anything_.”

Regina nodded wordlessly, leant her face further into Emma’s palm on her cheek and brought her own hand up to cover the blondes. As the brunette closed her eyes, more tears fell onto Emma’s thumb – but the blonde failed to notice – too transfixed was she by the faint brush of Regina’s lips against her wrist. The sheriff could have sworn that she felt the mayor place a soft kiss there, before she eventually pulled away.

“Come on,” the brunette finally said, as she got to her feet after a few moments of comfortable silence, pulling Emma up with her as she stood. “Let’s go and see what damage you’ve done to our hotel bill,” 

“Yeah,” Emma said sheepishly, as she dropped Regina’s hand and shoved her own in her pockets. “Sorry about that...I’ll pick up the bar bill-”

“Oh you needn’t worry, Miss Swan,” the mayor retorted with a smile in her voice, as her arm snaked to link around Emma’s, and draw her closer. “Your behaviour when you got back to our room last night has provided me with quite enough ammunition to make up it.” 

“Okay,” Emma nodded, temporarily distracted the brunettes proximity, as they walked arm in arm towards the car. “Wait,” she frowned, finally absorbing the brunettes words. “What?”

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have reached the end of Part One. Thank you for reading thus far! Part two, although equally emotional, will be more of an adventure - with a much faster pace. Expect journeys to other realms, visits from some old friends, more sarcasm from Zelena, a sprinkling of Gold and of course, the Evil Queen (I’m soooo excited to write that bit!). For those of you who were in the ‘no Robin Hood baby’ camp, don’t be too disheartened – please remember that this is a story about magic...not science – ANYTHING can happen. Please let me know your thoughts so far – I love to hear from you 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi *waves*.  
> I have also been released for my beta, as she is confident that I can now write on my own *look ma’ no hands!* Any mistakes that are ( _inevitably_ ) contained within, are therefore my own ☹.

_7 Budweiser’s and 4 whiskey chasers._

Regina looked down at the bar tab, then up at Emma with a single eyebrow raised in disapproval, before silently placing her credit card on the counter and settling up.

The blonde smiled sheepishly at the brunette and the hotel receptionist, before gathering their bags from the porters trolley and sloping out to the car. The sheriff was in need of fresh air; her hangover was still very much present and pounding in her ears. 

Once the blonde reached the Merc, she popped the trunk and unceremoniously dropped their bags inside, before shoving the keychain half way into her front jeans pocket and leaning back against the drivers side of the vehicle.

She kicked the toe of her boot into the gravel, and crossed her arms over her chest. 

The saviour was still a little overwhelmed by what had transpired earlier; Regina’s decision to keep the baby was unexpected. Although Emma was overjoyed at the brunette’s choice, having no clear memory of the discussion that had actually led to the mayor’s decision, was gnawing away at the her. The sheriff worried that she might have said something she shouldn’t have.

_Have I promised her something that I can’t deliver?_

Everything had seemed so much simpler in her alcohol induced haze; there was no sense of nagging doubt, no fear of consequence. 

She was so confused.

As Emma closed her eyes and raised her face skywards, the sunlight warming her skin, she pondered how quickly their relationship had changed, since she found Regina on the bathroom floor of the mansion. 

_Has it really only been a week?_

In that short space of time, they’d gone from being ‘kind of friends’ and co-parents to being... something different, something more. 

The saviour shivered as she recalled what it felt like when Regina had kissed her on the cheek in the hotel bathroom. It was a chaste kiss; a simple, platonic thank you. But there was nothing platonic about how that kiss had made Emma feel then...or how recalling it made her feel now.

“Are you ready to go?” Regina asked, unknowingly pulling the blonde from her salacious thoughts, as she approached the car from the hotel entrance. “They charged me for the broken TV remote,” she groused as she rounded the vehicle to stand in front of a blushing Emma. “What do you think you’re you doing?” She asked, narrowing her eyes at the blonde.

Emma opened her mouth to speak and closed it again – hoping the brunette hadn’t suddenly developed an ability to read her thoughts.

_Say something!_

“Uh what?” The blonde finally forced out, but when Regina unexpectedly took a step forwards, closing the distance between them, the saviours breath caught in her throat.

“I’m driving, Miss Swan.” Regina said, as she tugged the key chain free of Emma’s front jeans pocket, and once again raised that disapproving eyebrow. “You, still smell like a brewery.” 

“Right,” the blonde choked out, her back now flush against the Mercedes. If Regina noticed Emma’s discomfort at her proximity, she certainly didn’t show it; she simply slinked around the sheriff’s frozen form and got into the vehicle. 

Emma slowly released the breath she had been holding, and peeled herself from the side of the car.

_Nope,_ she internalised as she moved around the vehicle to the passenger side. _There’s nothing platonic about it._

xXx

As they neared Storybrooke, Emma’s hangover finally started to subside - but having skipped breakfast, the blonde was now famished. 

_Nothing that a burger from Granny’s can’t solve,_ the sheriff plotted, her stomach growling in response. _‘Mmmm extra pickles.’_

To distract from her hunger, the blonde looked over at Regina, who for her part, had been fairly quiet throughout the whole journey; the decision had given the brunette a lot to think about, Emma assumed.

Regina had called Henry and told him the news the minute they had reached the hotel; she had said it would be better that way. Emma understood that it would allow the mayor time to mentally prepare herself for the inevitable outpouring of affection she would receive, upon stepping foot inside the Charming’s loft. 

The rock station that the blonde had selected on their outward journey, still played in the background – and on occasion - the sheriff saw the mayor’s fingers taping away absently on the steering wheel to the beat. 

_It’s probably a welcomed distraction form her thoughts._

The current track playing was by Queen, and when Emma noticed the mayor drumming her fingers along to the music, she grinned.

Regina must have caught the Cheshire cat smile out of the corner of her eye, as she took her eyes of the road for a second to glance at the blonde. “What?” She asked, a frown creasing her brow. 

“You know this song is called Killer Queen, right?” 

“This singer has a very melodic voice,” Regina reasoned stiffly, as she focussed her eyes back on the road ahead. 

“The Queen likes Queen.” Emma said, her grin widening.

The mayor scoffed. “I like lots of music from this world, Emma.”

“You do?”

“I’ve been here as long as you have remember,” the brunette reasoned. “And I’ve not lived that sheltered an existence.”

“ Oh really?” Emma’s eyebrows twitched at this knowledge, her grin fading to sideways smile. “And what, prey-tell, does Mayor Mills have on her iTunes account?” 

Regina glanced back at the blonde fleetingly, her expression deftly communicating _‘are we really going to do this?_

“Go on,” the saviour pressed.

“I just prefer to listen to classical music,” the mayor started cautiously.

“Knew it,” the sheriff interrupted, raising her hand in an almost victorious gesture. 

“What’s wrong with that?” Regina glanced over at the blonde again, aghast. “We’re not all uncultured oafs-”

“Oh, I’m an oaf now?” The blonde feigned offence.

“If the shoe fits,” the brunette countered, teasingly. 

“Well excuse me, Madame Mayor,” Emma twisted in her seat slightly, a smile still on her face – she always enjoyed their verbal sparing, and she new the brunette did too. “I’ll have you know that I saw the New York Philharmonic _twice_ , when was in New York – and besides, you obviously like this too.” Emma shrugged. “You know what Your Majesty? You should broaden your horizons.”

“I have been tolerating this music at best,” the mayor protested weakly, but Emma ignored her.

“Zeppelin, The Stones, Bowie, Dylan...” the blonde listed her favourites, counting them on her fingers as she did. “Regina Mills,” she said decisively. “I’m gonna make you a playlist.”

“You’re going to make me a mixtape?” The brunette asked incredulously, an amused smile now touching her own lips. “How romantic.” 

“Oh, you’ll see,” Emma’s rolled her eyes, ignoring the fluttering in her stomach at the brunettes choice of words. Instead, she folded her arms over her chest, and stared out of the window. “It’s gonna be _awesome_ ,” she added sulkily, however the humour still hadn’t left her tone.

xXx

A short while later, Regina pulled the car into a bay outside of the loft and put it into park. 

She once again felt the heat of her power surging through her veins; her fingers tingled with it. Her magic had returned to her with such force after they’d crossed the town line, that it took her breath away; it made the brunette realise just how depleted her reserves must have been before they’d left Storybrooke. 

It was a comfort to have her magic it back, it gave her a sense of normalcy; it helped to soothe her raw nerves. Somewhat, anyway.

She looked though the windscreen, down the tree lined street ahead of them, at the imposing structure of the clock tower in the distance and sighed; they were home.

The Mayor was home - but everything would be different now. 

Every time she thought about her decision to keep the baby, fresh tears threatened to fall – and Emma seemed to understand that. Throughout the journey home, what little conversation they’d had, they’d kept light; they’d settled into the steady back and forth rapport, that was so intrinsically them, and it had helped to keep Regina’s emotions at bay.

Now however, the mayor knew that the minute she stepped foot into Snow White’s home, the second she saw the look of pity on each of their faces, it would be her undoing. Although her rift with Snow had now been resolved, and the two were even now almost what you’d call friends – the thought of discussing something so personal with the Charming’s made Regina feel like she was about to bare her soul to the world.

The brunette felt the weight of a hand on her arm, coaxing her from her thoughts, and she turned her head to look at Emma; sweet, caring Emma. A woman, who despite the vicious tongue lashing she’d received from the former queen before heading down to the bar, had still returned determined to make sure Regina understand how much she was cared for.

_I really don’t deserve her kindness._

“Are you ready to go up?” The saviour asked, concern twisting her pale features. She looked tired, the brunette thought, but appeared a little more together than when she had first seen her this morning. 

“No,” Regina answered honestly, before diverting her gaze to the building in front of them. “Emma, I know that we’ve come a long way, but I’m still not sure how comfortable I am with your parents knowing what happened,” the mayor twisted in her seat to face the blonde more fully, and tucked her hair behind her ear. “All those years go, what I did to myself...I was in such a dark place,” she dropped her gaze to her lap and tilted her head thoughtfully to one side before continuing. “I was so angry-” 

“And that anger was partially fuelled by my mother,” the saviour finished the sentence and Regina’s eyes snapped back up to meet the blondes. “I get it,” Emma smiled softly. “It’s complicated,” she flexed the fingers of the hand that still rested on the brunettes arm. “But if we’re going to do this,” she glanced down pointedly at the mayor’s abdomen. “If you’re going to have this baby, then you’re going to need all the help you can get.”

The brunettes eyes searched the blondes for a moment, failing to hide her apprehension.

“Regina, you’ve got to start accepting that we care about you,” Emma said, her tone barely masking her impatience with the matter. “You’ve got to start trusting people-”

“I do trust them, Emma,” the mayor interrupted the saviour, her voice raised and she surprised even herself with her words. “It’s just that I,” she shook her head and looked to the ceiling as she struggled to articulate. “I’m not very good at being,” her lip curled distastefully at the word on the tip of her tongue. “Weak.”

“You are not weak!” The blonde said incredulously, drawing the brunettes gaze once more. “Allowing them in, opening yourself up – Regina, that takes a lot more courage than it does to walk away.” 

For a brief moment, the brunette just stared at the sheriff; her mind absorbing the blondes words – her heart reacting to their sentiment. 

Emma held her gaze; her green eyes boring into Regina’s – hammering her point home. 

“Okay,” the brunette finally said, exhaling sharply and looking upwards, in an effort to blink back the tears that once again threatened to fall. “Alright,” she nodded and placed her own hand over the blondes. “I’m ready,” she smiled tightly. “Let’s do this.”

xXx

“Mom!” Upon entering the loft, Henry leapt off of the couch and ran over towards them. He flung his arms around Regina, before the front door had even been closed. 

“Henry,” she sighed into his hair, and squeezed him back; it felt so good to see him again – even though it had only been a couple of days.

“I’m glad you didn’t do it, Mom,” he said, his voice muffled by her hair. “It’s going to be okay, you’ll see.”

Regina released him then, stepped back and gently tucked a finger under his chin to bring his gaze to hers; she didn’t need to do it anymore, he was as tall as she was, but it was an old habit – something shared between the two of them that she had no intention of breaking. “Thank you, Henry,” she said with a watery smile, which the teenager happily returned. 

“Hey Kid,” Emma said casually as she shut the door and stepped around them on the way to the kitchen – pausing only to ruffle his hair. “Mom, Dad,” she nodded in greeting as she headed towards the refrigerator. “Have you guys got anything I can eat?” She opened the door and crouched to look inside. “I’m starving.”

“There’s left overs from last night on the top shelf,” Snow answered, some what distractedly as she and David hovered on the periphery of the foyer – allowing Regina time with her son. When the mayor lifted her gaze from Henry’s, and locked eyes with the younger woman – Snow took that as her queue. “Regina,” she stepped forward, her expression one of joy, her eyes wet with unshed tears. “I’m so happy for you!”

When the elder brunette took a cautious step backwards and used Henry as a human shield from Snow’s impending hug; the younger woman settled for rubbing the mayor’s arm supportively instead. 

“Congratulations, Regina,” David said, moving to join them in the foyer as well, his expression slightly more subdued than his wife’s, but still as sickeningly sentimental. 

“Let’s not get a head of ourselves,” Regina said tightly, releasing Henry and flicking her hair out of her face, before tugging on the sleeves of her coat to straighten out the arms. 

“But Mom,” Henry frowned as he moved to stand beside his grandparents, his expression filled with so much hope that it made Regina’s heart ache. “You are keeping the baby, right?” 

“I want to, Henry,” Regina nodded firmly. “But we need to be realistic,” she said, in her best Mayor Mills, no-nonsense tone, as she clasped her hands in front of her hips. “I may still not be able to have this baby.”

Much to the annoyance of Regina, Snow White recognised her ‘mayor mask’ and called her on it. “Well, Madam Mayor,” the younger woman linked her arm around the brunettes and started to draw her towards the couch. “Why don’t you just take a seat with me over here, and let Henry tell you our plan.” 

“Emma,” Regina called out to the blonde in a slightly stricken tone.

“Right here!” The blonde called around a mouthful of bread, as her head appeared from behind kitchen counter. 

Regina hit the sheriff with a glare to communicate her dislike at being manhandled across the loft - and the Emma swiftly shut the refrigerator door and headed to join them. 

“I’m coming!” 

xXx

As Regina was tucked into the corner of the couch, closely followed by Snow - who refused to let go of her arm – Emma took a seat on the adjacent chair.

When her father approached with a flipchart, the blonde cautioned the Mayor a glance, and came face to face with her death-stare.

_They’re trying, Regina,_ the blonde tried to communicate, with an expression of her own. _Give them a chance._

As David placed the easel on the floor in front of the coffee table, and Henry took position next to it, the brunettes features softened, and she settled back into the couch. 

“So,” Henry started to present, straightening his spine in an effort to stand taller. “We thought hard about what we should call this operation, and we had a few suggestions,” he said, he gaze focussed on Regina. “Operation Cub, Operation Simba...”

“That was mine,” Snow chipped in, beaming like it was something she was proud of. “You know, like The Lion King.”

Regina tightened her eyes and it looked to Emma, like she might say something to Snow, but then seemed to think better of it.

The saviour stifled a smile as Henry continued. 

“But then when I spoke with you on the phone this morning, Mom, I thought about how happy this could make you. I realised that this isn’t a new operation at all; it’s just an extension of one that’s already in process,” with that, Henry lifted the first page on the flipchart to reveal the name of their plan. “I give you Operation Mongoose, Part 2.”

Emma smiled encouragingly at him, and looked across to Regina, who was doing the same; no matter how ridiculous this situation was, it was evident that their son had poured his heart and soul into this plan. Emma only hoped that it really was worth all the flare.

Henry flipped a second page to reveal a photograph of King George, a crude drawing of Disney’s Snow White and a magazine cut out of a lake.

_Dear God,_ the blonde cringed in her seat. The flip chart was her mothers doing; Emma just new it.

“So, back in the Enchanted Forest, King George gave Grandma a drink that cursed her,” Henry explained. “It meant that she would never be able to have a baby.”

Snow and David shared a knowing glace. 

“But my Great Grandmother Ruth and Lancelot led her to Lake Nostos,” he pointed to the photograph of the lake, for dramatic effect. “As it’s said the waters can restore life to someone that has been cursed.”

“And that’s what worked?” Regina asked, her interest now piqued as she leant back and looked to her right at Snow, who was still practically sitting in the elder woman’s lap.

“Living proof,” the younger woman smiled, as she looked lovingly across the room at Emma.

“But there’s one problem,” Henry continued. “The lake had dried up, apart from the last few droplets that they found in a shell to cure Grandma.”

“That’s my fault,” David, who had been quiet up until now, stepped stiffly into present and flipped the chart over another page; this one displayed the an image from book of a beautiful siren, luring sailors to their deaths. “I had journeyed to the lake some time previously, and in order to save Princess Abigail’s true love, I had killed the guardian of the lake; a siren,” he moved his arm awkwardly over the image on the chart, like a magician - as if that would justify his actions.

He was a terrible presenter.

“Okay,” Regina said irritably, her patience clearly now waning; three flip-chart sheets, Emma mused, were apparently the mayor’s limit. “This is all very,” she waved her arm in the air towards the chart, but decided not to put a word to it. “But where does that leave me?”

“We’re getting to that bit, Mom.” Henry said as he hurriedly turned over another page, sensing his mothers annoyance. “I told you the flip chart was too much, Grandma.”

“The flip chart was _your_ doing?” Regina looked at Snow again, scowling. “Of course it was,” she rolled her eyes.

“We don’t have a projector-”

“I’m not questioning the presentation tool, you fool!” Regina exclaimed, twisting on the couch to face the younger woman. “I’m questioning the need for a presentation at all!”

“Regina,” Emma cautioned, drawing the brunettes stare away from Snow White. The blonde nodded her head towards their son, who was still standing next to the flip cart.

Regina, first followed the sheriff’s gaze, and then her train of thought. “I’m sorry, Henry,” the mayor said with a tight smile as she sat back against the cushions primly, clasping her hands in her lap. “Do continue.”

“No it’s okay,” Henry sighed and closed the flip chart. “I don’t need the presentation,” he came to perch on the coffee table in front of Regina. “Mom, we need to cross realms and go back in time to collect some of that water.”

“Time travel Henry?” Regina asked surprised, and shook her head firmly. “It’s too dangerous. We could alter the universe irreparably-”

“We’ve done it before,” Emma offered.

Regina turned her head to look at the blonde. “And if you recall correctly Emma, it was not without consequence.”

“We’re all still here,”

“You brought about the Snow Queen’s curse!”

“Details,” Emma mumbled.

“Look,” Regina sighed, turning her attention back to her son. “It’s too unpredictable,” she took his hand. “I won’t risk what I have here now-”

“But Mom,” Henry squeezed her hand. “We’ve faced worse-”

“I faced you,” Emma interrupted, which drew a scowl from the brunette and their son.

“Ma’s done this before; we can do it again,” the teenager pressed on with his pitch.

Regina sighed, her shoulders slumping forwards slightly. “Okay, let’s just say we were to go with this hare-brained scheme,” Regina said, looking across at David, then back to Snow. “How do you propose we travel back in time?”

“Zalena’s spell,” Snow offered.

“Are you insane?” Regina dropped Henry’s hands and got to her feet, hands on her hips. “She stole your baby to open that portal.”

“But she didn’t harm him!” Snow countered, rising to her feet as well.

“Oh, well that’s alright then,” the elder woman scoffed.

“She just needed a symbol of innocence to conduct her spell!” Snow yelled.

“Guys,” Emma said as she got to her feet, a new plan formulating in her mind.

“Oh my God, Snow!” Regina exclaimed, ignoring Emma. “Are you actually hearing yourself right now?”

“Guys!” Emma rose her voice, and both of the other women turned to face her, stunned. “We might not Zelena’s spell to take us back in time.”

“What do you mean?” Snow asked.

“When Hook and I were sucked through Zelena’s portal, Gold talked of a wand that can recreate any magic that has already been wielded,” Emma frowned and started to pace. “Only he couldn’t use it to reopen the portal for us, because only those who had used the original magic, can recreate it,” she stopped moving and stared at Regina from across the room. “It’s what I used to get us home.” 

“So where is this wand now, Emma?” David asked, re-entering the conversation. “Did you bring it back with you?”

“No, I dropped it in Rumpelstiltskin’s vault.”

“Do you think he has it here with him in Storybrooke?” Snow voiced the question on everyone’s mind. 

“A wand with the power to recreate any spell ever wielded?” Regina spoke, thoughtfully – a slight frown touching her brow. “I’d say that it’s a pretty safe bet.” 

“Well okay then,” Emma said, taking a tentative step towards the mayor, who still looked as though she might bolt at any minute. “So what do you say then, Regina?” Emma looked to their son, then back at the brunette. “Operation Mongoose Part 2,” she raised her eyebrows. “Are you in?”

Regina’s expression was unreadable for a few beats; Emma watched her swallow, saw her jaw clench as Henry stepped towards her, dipping his head to look into his brunette mothers eyes.

“Don’t be afraid, Mom.”

Emma noticed the immediate the impact of their son’s words on his other mothers face; he knew her so well.

Eventually the brunette nodded at her son, before looking back at Emma and answering affirmatively. 

“I’m in.” 

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, that was like a OUAT magical history tour! 
> 
> Do you know how many wands, spells and gizmo’s I had to read about on Wiki until I found something that gave me a plausible storyline?! Anyway, hope it was worth the effort!
> 
> Thanks for reading As always, I’d love to know your thoughts


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: I have been entirely overwhelmed by your comments and love for this story – thank you all so much.  
> This chapter was a bugger to write - Snow White was being a pain in my arse (now there’s a sentence I never thought I’d say); she just wouldn’t stay in bloody character LOL!   
> Anyway, disclaimers are in part one – and I’ve used no beta again, so any mistakes are my own.

Once the flip chart had been (thankfully) stored away, and baby Neil had awoken from his nap, they decided to go Granny’s for dinner as a family. They still needed to discuss the finer detail of their plan, however as it was clear that tensions were running high, they had all agreed to park the matter until the morning.

As it was still early evening when they reached Granny’s, the diner was fairly quiet - so they easily managed to secure themselves a booth. 

Henry piled in first, with Emma following suit and Regina at her side; Snow and David took the seats opposite them with the baby.

“I’m pretty sure we all know the menu off by heart now, kid,” Emma ribbed Henry, as he grabbed a handful of menus from the rack and distributed them around the table. “I bet you a dollar I could close my eyes right now and recite the appetisers word for word.”

“Could not,” Henry retorted, childishly.

“Could too.”

“I hope you’re not encouraging our son to gamble, Miss Swan,” Regina said with a smirk as she ran her gaze over the menu.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Emma said, as she winked at Henry, eliciting a laugh from their son.

Emma was intent on keeping the conversation light that evening – especially considering the emotional rollercoaster of a day that Regina had already endured. The brunette had been a little quiet since she had reluctantly signed up to Operation Mongoose Part 2; the blonde could only assume that the mayor still had her doubts.  
.   
“Hey,” Henry continued the joke as he scanned his own menu. “Maybe I should use the authors pen, you know, to make Granny more creative-”

“I heard that, young man,” Granny interrupted as she appeared at the table, as if from nowhere. She scowled at the teenager, and Henry instantly shrunk down in his seat.

“Right,” the older woman sighed before she addressed the rest of the table. “We’ve got no more chicken burgers and we’re out of ranch,” she said matter of fact, as she flipped open a small note pad and pulled a pencil from the bun in her hair. “So, what’ll it be? 

“Cheese burger, medium rare, extra pickles please, Granny.” Emma said with a bright smile, having come ready prepared with a selection in mind. “Oh, and a coke.”

“Lasagne please,” Snow said, placing the menu back in the holder. “And I’ll just have water.”

“Madam Mayor?” Granny looked expectantly at Regina. “Will you be having your usual? Chicken Salad, dressing on the side?” The older woman asked, her pen poised.

“Um,” the brunette looked down at the laminated menu and fingered the edge of it, where the worn corner had started to curl. “I actually think I will order what Emma is having, please,” she spoke quietly, to the table. “But well done, if you don’t mind,” she added quickly, raising her gaze to meet Granny’s “with the extra pickles on the side?” 

“That’s a first,” Granny said with a quirked eye brow, as she scribbled down the note. “And to drink?”

“Water, please,” Regina said stiffly, sparing a nervous glance at the other members of the dining party. 

When their eyes met, Emma flashed Regina a genuine smile; the brunette had barely eaten anything on their trip and anything she had eaten, she’d struggled to keep down. An increase in her appetite could only be good sign. 

“David?” Granny looked to Prince Charming, who was currently fussing with the straps on a wooden high-chair, that the diner had provided for Neil.

“Uh, the ribs and a beer please, Granny.”

“And Henry?” The elderly woman narrowed her eyes and peered at Henry over her glasses, but Emma could see that there was a hint of mirth in her gaze. “A blini with caviar, perhaps? Or how’s about lamb shoulder with a red wine jus?” 

“Just the lasagne and a coke please, Granny,” he muttered sheepishly as he pushed his menu back into the holder. “Sorry.” 

Granny smiled knowingly at the adults at the table, before turning sharply and heading for the kitchen. “Coming right up.”

“Wolf hearing,” Emma leant into her son and nudged his shoulder with her own. “Always remember that.”

xXx

Whilst the family waited for their food to arrive, they naturally filled every silence with small talk. Henry described his idea for the school science project, David updated his daughter with the goings on at the sheriff station, and Emma and Regina shared a little about their trip outside of Storybrooke. 

It was the latter, that really drew Snow’s attention.

The mayor poked fun at the saviour and her ‘pathetic’ bladder when it came to long car journeys, and the blonde retorted by telling the group about the brunette’s newly found appreciation for rock music. 

Snow listened intently to their rapport, a slight frown creasing her brow.

The back and forth that the teacher had grown accustomed to from her daughter and the mayor was still evident, yet their tone seemed different to her somehow. Their usual cutting remarks and bickering had been replaced with a softer, almost playful banter.

Snow found it puzzling. If it were only Emma whose behaviour had changed out of concern for Regina, she would’ve understood the shift, but the mayor was being equally as teasing in her responses.

Snow narrowed her eyes suspiciously, just as their food arrived at the table.

“It killed you to order that, didn’t it?” Emma said with a grin, as Granny placed the final plate down on in front of Regina. “All those times you’ve harped on at me about my arteries, yet here you are, craving burgers,” she nodded towards the plate, a smile still on her lips. “Welcome to the dark side, Madame Mayor.”

Snow watched their exchange closely, as she placed her napkin on her lap.

“A burger every now and then isn’t _that_ terrible, Miss Swan,” Regina teased, twisting her body towards the blonde as she plucked a slice of gherkin from the side of her plate and brought it to her lips. “It’s the abundance of fried food that you guzzle down on a daily basis, that causes me concern,” she continued, taking a bite of the pickle. “You really _should_ eat a vegetable, every once in a while.”

Emma swallowed slowly, and as her gaze dropped to the brunettes lips, she licked her own.

_Oh my God!_ Snow’s eyes widened, as realisation dawned. _They’re totally flirting!_

“Oh my God!” She actually voiced, grabbing her husband’s forearm, as he attempted to eat his lasagne. 

Emma and Regina looked over at her, startled and Henry simply looked confused.

“What?” David asked, slightly panicked by his wife’s bizarre behaviour. “Snow, what is it?”

“Oh, uh,” Snow let go of David’s arm and looked between him and their daughter, before demurely reaching for her cutlery. “Nothing,” she lied, cutting in to her meal, barely feigning nonchalance. “I just thought of something...that I forgot to do at work, that’s all.” She said, stifling a smile as she spared another glance at the two confused women across the table. “Eat up,” she said, waving her arm dismissively over their food. “Don’t let it get cold.” 

xXx

“Oh God!” Emma groaned, resting back in the booth and splaying her hands across her full stomach. “I think I ate too much.”

Dinner had been pretty uneventful; after Snow Whites peculiar outburst, they’d eaten mostly in silence – all tucking into their food with vigour. Regina had surprised herself by managing to eat most of her meal; she was already feeling a little better for having something in her stomach, she only hoped that this time she’d be able to keep it down. 

“Really?” The brunette wiped her fingers on her napkin and dropped it onto her plate, before turning to smile at the blonde beside her. “You’re telling me that _you’ve_ got no room for dessert?”

“Ma and I have a separate stomach for dessert, Mom,” Henry said, pushing his plate aside with a smile. “You know that.”

“What he said,” Emma grinned back at the brunette, nodding her head in the direction of their son.

“They get that from me,” David said, beaming with pride.

“Honestly, Regina” Snow said, her eyebrows raised. “I don’t know where he puts it.”

“We’ve got hollow legs,” David retorted with a smile, as he signalled to Granny that he would like another beer.

Regina smiled softly and settled back in her seat, half-listening as the Charming’s excitedly discussed their options for dessert. She sighed contently to herself; she truly enjoyed the time they spent together as a family. 

She loved them; she loved all of them - even the idiots had managed to worm their way into her darkened heart, and for that she would be eternally grateful. 

Their devotion to her however, was something that she couldn’t quite comprehend. 

Despite the ridiculous flip-chart presentation the Charming’s had compiled, Regina was incredibly conscious of the effort that had gone into producing it. Her annoyance over the matter hadn’t been borne entirely from having to endure the painful unveiling of their plan, but from the former queen’s belief, that she really didn’t deserve their attention..

They had come so far as a family, they had all learned to move on – but whereas Regina only had to forgive the telling of a secret, the Charming’s had to forgive her for so much more. 

_I did unspeakable things._

When the brunette thought back to all of the hideous, vile atrocities she had committed as queen, the guilt she felt was at times unbearable. It coiled in her stomach, it gripped at her heart and if it weren’t for the love of the people surrounding her, it would have already consumed her whole. 

Operation Mongoose Part 2, Regina mused, was already flawed; how could she ever know true happiness, when that feeling of guilt would always be there? 

It would be forever her cross to bear, yet still, she didn’t regret her actions - she couldn’t - because everything that had happened, had brought her Henry...it had brought her Emma.

The brunette shifted in her seat slightly to look at the blonde, who was currently pointing out a dessert on the menu to their son.

_Our son._

Their family unit.

_My family._

Emma’s plan of travelling back in time to the Enchanted Forest was not without risk; one wrong move, and the whole universe could unravel. 

What Regina had right now, could cease it exist. 

_Is losing what I already have, really worth the risk?_

As Regina felt the first prickle of tears sting her eyes, she looked away from Emma – which was when her open, watery gaze connected with Snow White’s.

xXx

Snow White had been quietly observing the emotions playing out on the mayor’s face for a while now; her former stepmothers eyes had always been so expressive, and as their gazes locked over the table, for that split second, it was fear that the younger woman glimpsed.

She didn’t think that it was being caught looking at her daughter, that had instilled this emotion in Regina - after all, whether the mayor was conscious of it or not, she had been staring longingly at Emma unabashed all evening (something Snow was just bursting to ask them about). No, the older woman was certainly terrified, but it was of something else... 

_She must be thinking about the plan._

It was unsettling for Snow to think that the cautious woman who sat before her, was the same stepmother that had waged a war against them all those years ago; right now, she wasn’t even a shadow of her former self. 

It wasn’t that the younger woman missed the Evil Queen, far from it, but to see Regina so vulnerable...it truly broke her heart. 

“Regina,” Snow said softly, reaching across the table to place her hand over the brunettes. “We can do this,” she said confidently, despite feeling the mayor stiffen at her touch. “We’ve come up against tougher challenges and we’ve always won.”

The table fell silent and all eyes were on Regina. 

As a scathing frown appeared on the older woman’s brow, Snow knew instantly that she had said something wrong.

“We may have always won, Snow,” Regina said finally, the wavering of her voice betraying the sternness of her expression. “But that wasn’t without suffering casualties.”

“Of course-” Snow said hastily, internally kicking herself for being so insensitive. “I’m sorry, I-I didn’t think, I-”

“Well,” Regina scoffed. “Why break a habit of a lifetime?” Her eyes glazed with moisture. “Excuse me,” she said, as she slid out of the booth and headed for the exit.

“Regina,” Emma called to her retreating form, before turning to look back at her mother, and fixing her with a withering gaze. “You just had to say something, didn’t you?” She said, before scrambling out of the booth, and heading after the mayor.

“Emma, I’m sorry,” Snow stood and pushed past David to exit the booth. 

“Is anyone actually going to pay for their damn food?” Granny asked, just as the door to the diner swung shut behind them. 

When she noticed that Regina hadn’t actually left, Snow came to a halt at the top of the stairs. The mayor stood underneath the arched trellis, where the street met the entrance to Granny’s, and Emma now hovered awkwardly in the space between them. 

Eventually, the blonde made a tentative move towards the brunette. “It could be a solid plan,” she said, as she edged forwards. “We’ve just got to iron out a few kinks and-” 

“Kinks?” The mayor asked, incredulously. “Emma, there’s one huge problem that you’re all choosing to overlook here.”

“Which is?”

“Gold!” Regina said irritably, as if she were stating the most obvious fact in the world. “He won’t just hand over the wand; he’s going to want something in return.”

“She’s right, Emma,” Snow interjected, as she stepped down one level on the stairs - much to the irritation of the other two women. “He’s got his own unborn baby to worry about; Belle is still under a sleeping curse and he’s been trying to wake her.” 

“Well,” Emma said with a frown, clearly still annoyed with her mother. “Maybe that’s good for us.”

“How so?” Regina asked, wrapping her arms around herself; having left her coat inside, she was apparently starting to feel the cold.

“He’s distracted,” Emma explained, with a shrug. “Maybe we don’t have to ask him for the wand at all.”

“Your planning to steal from Gold,” the brunette said, but it wasn’t a question. A look of utter disbelief flashed across her features, before she moved to sit on one of the outside dining chairs “Of course you are.” 

“Why not?” Emma asked, quickly crossing the path to take a seat on a chair next to the mayor, twisting her body to face her.

“No, Emma,” Regina said softly, looking into the blondes eyes. “He’d know in an instant.”

“Not necessarily,” the sheriff shook her head. “Henry works at the shop – we already have access.”

“Ma’s right,” Henry said, as he, David and Neil appeared behind Snow on the stairs. The teenager stepped around his grandmother and passed Regina her coat. “I can look for the wand when I’m in the shop tomorrow.” 

“Henry,” Regina warned, looking up at her son, her expression filled with doubt as she graciously accepted the woollen coat, and draped it around her own shoulders. 

“Regina,” Emma grabbed her hand, drawing her attention back. “It’s the easiest way; I’ll be there and back in an instant – you won’t even know that I’m gone,” she frowned. “Or is it that I’ll be back and forward in an instant? Time travel is confusing...” Emma tried to make light of the situation, but Regina ignored her attempts. 

“I take it you plan to make this idiotic journey on your own?”

“I don’t really think that leaping though time portals will be good for the baby-” 

“And what if Gold does find out that you stole from him? What then?” The brunette questioned the blonde. “What if he finds out when you’re still in the past? What if he does something to prevent you from returning?”

“He won’t,” Emma said, defiantly. “Gold won’t risk changing the past like that.”

“Won’t he?” Regina asked, her eyes searching the blondes. “Gold’s already lost so much; what makes you so certain that he won’t take the chance to change his fate?” 

“Because he still loves Belle, and she’s carrying his child.”

After a couple of beats, the brunette sighed and dropped her gaze to their joined hands; their fingers had interlinked and she flexed hers around the blondes. “I know that I’ve already said that ‘I’m in’, and I really do want this plan to work, but Emma,” she shook her head softly before bringing her gaze back up to meet the saviours. “I won’t risk losing you to the past.”

At the mayor’s admission, Snow finally understood what the older woman was so afraid of; she was scared of losing what she already had, of losing what was right in front of her. Snow’s heart swelled at the thought; Regina Mills was in love with her daughter. 

The teacher spared a glance at her husband – who too seemed to be observing the scene unfolding before them, with rapt fascination. Snow shifted uncomfortably, suddenly feeling like they had front row tickets to what should have been a very private conversation. 

“You’d not take that risk?” Emma eventually asked, her face twisted in confusion. “Not even to save your own child?”

“What?” Regina looked taken aback; so shocked was she by the directness of Emma’s question that she physically recoiled and dropped the blondes hand. “Emma, how can you even say that?” She shook her head. “That’s an impossible choice – either way I lose.”

“But this is your baby,” the blonde argued, her counter argument borne more from confusion than anger. “Regina, I know how important this is to you,”

“Emma, you mean-” the brunette stopped short, as if she’d suddenly remembered that they had an audience. 

She got to her feet and spared a fleeting glance at the Charming’s on the stairs.

“Regina,” Emma started, but was swiftly cut off by the brunette.

“No, Emma,” the mayor shook her head firmly, her stance resolute. “I will not choose between you and the baby,” she took a step backwards, putting some distance between them. “There has to be another way.”

Before Emma could respond, the brunette disappeared in a cloud of purple smoke, leaving the saviour looking dejected and alone.

At the stricken expression on her daughters face, Snow felt her heart clench in her chest.

Regina was in love with her daughter, but Emma had no idea at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading.
> 
> As always, I’d love to hear from you


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Notes: Thank you all so much for the encouragement and love that I have been receiving over this story; I am entirely overwhelmed.
> 
> I must apologise for the delay in posting this chapter – for some reason, it was an absolute bastard to write! Thanks to Loweze for running an approving eye over it for me, when I was having my doubts

Chapter 14

Emma watched as Regina disappeared before her in a plume of purple smoke; the cloud clearing before the saviours brain could reengage with her body.

_What the hell just happened?_

Everything had been fine; it had all been going so well. Their unconventional family unit, sharing good food and inside jokes; it had felt to Emma like home... _it had felt like love._

Then all of a sudden, she was out on her ass in the cold, wondering just what in the hell she had done wrong this time. 

The blonde felt like she was suffering from some kind of emotional whiplash.

Damn it - _she doesn’t just get to do that; Regina doesn’t just get to just poof away whenever we’re in the middle of...whatever it was we were in the middle of._

“Screw this,” the blonde muttered under her breath and abruptly got to her feet, only to have her path blocked by Snow White.

“Where are you going?”

“After Regina,” Emma said, fixing her mother with a scowl that questioned why the hell she would be heading anywhere else. 

“No you’re not,” Snow shook her head and placed her hands on her daughters biceps. “That’s a terrible idea.”

“What?” Emma said, not even bothering to mask her irritation, after all it was her mothers meddling that had gotten them into this mess to begin with.

“You’ve got to let her cool down.”

“It’ll be fine –“

“No, Emma,” Snow said more firmly, tightening her hold on the blondes arms.

“Mom,” Emma tried to side step the shorter woman, but her path was blocked yet again. “Get out of my way,” she said frustrated; fighting the urge to stamp her foot like a petulant child. 

“Emma, no,” Snow said again, looking into her daughters eyes with a pleading expression. “If you push Regina too hard, you’ll force her hand.” 

Emma frowned, angrily shrugging out of her mothers grasp, but this time instead of trying to shove past her, the blonde stayed put.

“Put yourself in her shoes,” seemingly content that she now had her daughters full attention, Snow White took a step backwards before continuing. “Regina made a really tough decision today, Emma” the teacher folded her arms over her chest. “One that I never thought she’d make.”

“I realise that,” 

“And just now,” Snow pressed on, ignoring her daughters interjection. “You told her that that decision, could result in her losing somebody else that she cares for, very much.”

“I know, Mom-”

“No you don’t Emma,” Snow swiftly cut her daughter off with another shake of her head; her expression stern and entirely mothering. “You don’t know – because if you did, you would never have asked her to choose.”

“What...” Emma paused, confusion tugging at her brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?” The blonde cocked her head to one side. “Do you know something that I don’t?” She took a step towards her mother. “Has Regina told you something?”

“What?” The darker haired woman looked taken aback. “No, I-” 

The blondes eyes narrowed suspiciously, fresh concern for Regina tightening her chest. “Mom, is there something I don’t know about the pregnancy?”

Snow studied her daughters face with wide eyes for a beat, before her face softened into a soft smile. “Oh honey,” she said with a sigh as she moved to place an arm over her Emma’s shoulders, steering them back towards the diner. “I just know Regina, that’s all – and she needs space to calm down.” 

Emma nodded slowly, her heartrate normalising as she absorbed her mother’s words; maybe she was right? Maybe rushing straight around to Regina’s wasn’t the best idea; maybe giving the mayor time to digest the plan was a good thing.

“It’s a good plan,” the saviour voiced, as they reached the bottom of the stairs where David and Henry still stood.

“It is,” Snow dropped her arm to rest it on the small of her daughters back. “But it’s not without flaws.” 

Emma stopped and twisted to face her mother, waiting expectantly for her to explain. 

“Regina’s right,” Snow shrugged. “Stealing from Gold is a bad idea.”

“But if we just ask him for the wand, you know he’ll want a deal.” Emma protested.

“Well then we deal,” Snow said casually, as if it would be the easiest thing in the world.

Emma looked sceptical.

“Or we come up with a better plan,” Snow continued, looking to her husband and Henry for support, which as always, was there in abundance. “And we will,” she said resolutely and turned her attention back to Emma. “We always do.”

xXx

The flickering flames of the open fire, projected shadowy patterns that danced around the walls of the dimly lit study. 

Regina sat rigidly in an armchair facing the fireplace; transfixed by the burning embers, she cradled a steaming cup of camomile tea in her hands, yet she longed to drink something stronger. 

It had been over an hour since she had left the diner – and she was still absolutely livid.

She was angry at the Charming’s for their idiotic flip-chart presentation, she was angry at Emma for her half-baked plan, but most of all, Regina was angry at herself for being stupid enough to have gone along with it; she’d just signed herself up, without even thinking of the consequences.

_Love is weakness._

The mayor scoffed at the notion and got to her feet. 

Placing her cooling tea on the mantel, she started to pace the room; the high-heeled boots that she hadn’t bothered to remove, clicked loudly across the wooden floor as she walked.

_Stealing from Gold? Really?_ Regina silently seethed. _Are they honestly that stupid?_

As she left the direct heat of the roaring fire, the mayor felt the chill in the air, and it was instantly sobering. She placed her hands lightly over her abdomen. 

_I have to calm down._

The brunette understood that her hormones were partly at play, that her reaction was probably bordering on an over reaction – but she couldn’t shake the rage that coiled in her gut, she struggled to supress the urge to lash out, to break something...or someone.

_Being Evil when pregnant certainly had it’s perks._

Regina dropped her hands to her side and balled them into fists, her nails digging painfully into her palms. 

_Why would Emma risk her life for my happiness? How could she even think that I’d want that?_

Regina came to a stop in front of the fire; she clenched her jaw and swallowed thickly as she recalled her own words from earlier that night...

_“Emma, I won’t risk losing you to the past.”_

That statement had been loaded. 

The wave of emotion that had washed over the brunette, as those words had fallen from her lips – it had felt both terrifying and exhilarating. In that moment, Regina had truly acknowledged the depth of her feelings towards Emma...and had admitted them.

_Idiot._

Regina shook her head, a sardonic smirk touching her lips.

Of course, the sentiment behind her words had fallen on deaf ears; the look of confusion that had passed over the blondes face in response, had felt to Regina like a kick to the gut. 

_“You’d not take that risk? Not even to save your own child?”_

The mayor blinked slowly, her eyes feeling suddenly dry from the heat of the fire; they watered as she held them closed – the slight sting offering a short lived distraction from her thoughts.

_Maybe it’s just me?_

Regina had never had many friends; her mother forbade it, and as a result, the brunette had always had difficulty connecting with others – and when she had, the boundaries often became blurred.

Daniel had been her friend, and then they fell in love. Maleficent had been her friend, and then they...well...they’d never been in love per-say, but they certainly partook in activities that stretched (far) beyond what was deemed normal...for a conventional friendship, anyway.

The brunette frowned. 

Emma was her friend, of that the mayor was certain - yet from the very beginning, Regina had sensed that there was something there between them; something simmering, just under the surface.

At first, her attraction to the blonde was purely physical; Emma was completely her type, after all. 

But the brunette had dismissed it of course; stifled it, used it to fuel her anger - but now that their hatred of one another had dissipated, there was no outlet for Regina’s frustration, and it was getting harder for her to ignore. 

Between family issues, boyfriends and the ‘curse of the week’, there hadn’t really been the opportunity of late, for Regina to contemplate her emotional attachment to the blonde. She may have had an inkling that her feelings ran deeper than just a physical appreciation...but this past week had certainly confirmed it.

The brunette’s pregnancy had given her time with Emma; time without the Charming’s hovering, without Henry in the middle, without wicked sisters, pirates or thieves...it had given them time to themselves. 

However it wasn’t until tonight, when Regina was faced with the prospect losing Emma, that she truly understood what she had.

Despite the bad timing, despite her initial resistance, the former queen now fully acknowledged that she wanted more from the saviour; she craved more.

_But she doesn’t want me._

Even now, as Regina thought about the irksome blonde and the blow that she had served this evening to the brunette’s already battered heart, the mayor couldn’t ignore the warmth spreading throughout her chest. 

This time, that line between friendship and something more, hadn’t just blurred for the brunette, she’d tripped over it; Regina Mills had fallen for Emma Swan, completely. 

_If love really is weakness, then I’m doomed._

Just then, a key slipping into the lock of the front door to the mansion, startled Regina from her thoughts.

She opened her eyes and looked over her shoulder towards the open study door; her eyes wide. 

_It’s just Henry,_ she reasoned. _It’s fine._

Wiping fresh tear tracks from her cheeks with a hint of magic ( _Henry doesn’t need to see me cry_ ), Regina flipped her hair back over her shoulders and strode confidently into the hall. 

“Henry, I-” as the brunette rounded the corner into the foyer she stopped short; both her son and Snow White were hovering by the front door.

“Snow,” Regina said in greeting, eyeing the other woman suspiciously.

“Regina,” Snow nodded in return.

“Hey Mom,” Henry said breathlessly, as he toed off his sneakers and climbed up the first set of stairs towards her.

“Henry,” Regina recovered quickly, pulling him in with an arm around his shoulders to place a solitary kiss to his cheek. “I thought you were spending the night at your grandparents again.” 

“I was,” he shrugged, “but I wanted to stay here with you instead.” He pulled back to look at her; concerned hazel eyes drifting over her tense features. “Is that okay?”

“Of course it is,” Regina said with a slight frown and a soft smile. “Henry, this is your home.”

“I know,” he dipped his head. “But I wasn’t sure if you’d want to be alone after-”

“Nonsense,” Regina shook her head firmly and pulled him in for a full hug, sparing a bewildered glance at Snow as she did. “Don’t ever think that you’re not welcome here,” she cupped his cheek and smiled sincerely. “Okay?”

“Okay, Mom,” he nodded and hoisted the backpack he was carrying up, over his shoulder. “I’m gonna drop this upstairs,” he wondered towards the second staircase. “Night, Grandma.”

“Goodnight Henry,” Snow called after him, before bringing her attention back to Regina. 

The two women stared at each other awkwardly for a beat, before the older woman broke the silence.

“Well,” she mayor said as she strode towards the door; after this evening, she had no intention of inviting the younger woman in for tea. “Thank you for dropping him home.”

“Regina,” Snow started, as the brunette walked briskly past her. 

“Please let me know how much I owe you for diner tonight,” the brunette pressed on, ignoring the teacher completely. “I forgot to-”

“Regina!” Snow raised her voice and this time the mayor stopped to look at her.

“Yes?” She asked, her eyebrows raised expectantly, her hand resting on the door handle. 

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Regina bristled, but at Snow’s narrowing gaze, she faltered. “I will be fine,” she said more softly, as she dropped her eyes to look at her feet and crossed her arms over her chest. “How’s Emma?”

“She’s fine,” the teacher said casually, and Regina lifted her head to meet the other woman’s gaze. “She headed after dinner,” Snow tilted her head to the side. “Admittedly, she was little confused by your reaction – but she said that she’ll call you in the morning.”

The elder woman nodded, chewing contemplatively on her bottom lip. “I’m sorry I just left like that, I -”

“No need to apologise,” Snow held her hands up and offered the former queen a genuine smile. “It’s fine; I _completely_ understand.”

_No you don’t. How could you? You have Charming._

Regina simply nodded and returned her hand to the door handle. “Okay,” she said with finitely, as she opened the front door. “Well, thank you again for dropping Henry home.”

“You’re welcome,” the younger woman said as she stepped past Regina and onto the porch. “See you tomorrow?”

“Oh, I have no doubt,” the brunette retorted with a tight lipped smile, but her words were delivered without malice.

“Great,” Snow moved to walk down the steps – before stopping abruptly and turning back to face the mayor.

“Oh and Regina,”

“Yes?” The brunette asked with a hint of impatience in her expression, her hand poised to shut the door.

“You know,” Snow took a cautious step towards the mayor. “My daughter isn’t...especially perceptive, when it comes to matters of the heart,” 

“Oh?” The brunette narrowed her eyes at the school teacher, alarm bells starting to sound in her head. “And you are, I suppose?” 

“Oh, I am,” Snow smiled broadly, a knowing glint in her eyes. “Very.” 

The teachers nose wrinkled with excitement, in a way that struck fear into the former queen’s heart.

_Oh God!_

“Regina,” the teacher said confidently, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet - a gleeful expression on her face. “I think you should tell Emma how you feel.”

_She knows!_

The Mayor gaped openly at the teacher; her response caught in her throat. 

“How..?” Unfortunately, by the time Regina found her words, Snow White was already making her way down the garden path – with a spring in her step.

xXx

Emma sat in her pyjama’s, cross-legged on the floor in her living room - her back resting against the couch and a laptop open on the coffee table in front of her.

A long soak in the tub, had given the blonde time to clear her head; it had allowed her to digest exactly what had been said earlier that evening to make Regina leave the way that she had.

The saviour got it now - or at least she thought she did. A journey into the past was enough of a risk, without pissing off the Dark One. 

_Point taken._

It may be her Charming genes at work - but considering Emma had thrown the plan together in a matter of minutes, she had every faith that collectively, they would find a way to work around the problem.

_There’s always another way._

‘You’re a heartbreaker  
Dream maker, a love taker  
Don’t you mess around with me’ 

The blonde sang along to the music that poured from her laptop speakers. She selected the current track with the cursor on the screen, and dragged it into a folder labelled ‘Regina’s Awesome Mix Vol 1’.

The blonde grinned (again) at the name that she’d chosen for the file.

_She’s going to hate it._

Now that they were friends, Emma didn’t fully understand her need to antagonise the mayor - yet regardless, her grin remained in place as she visualised the eye roll she’d would be on the receiving end of, once she presented Regina with her playlist. 

As her thoughts once again returned to the brunette, the saviour’s gaze drifted to the time display in the bottom right hand corner of her screen - it was 23:47, which was only three minutes after she’d last looked.

_Is it too late to send a text?_

Emma glanced down longingly at her phone that lay on the floor beside her; a dance she’d been doing all night.

It felt foreign to the blonde, this new desire to check in with the brunette, to hear her voice, to be near her – yet the itch the saviour currently felt to pick up the phone and achieve just that, could not be denied. 

Emma sighed.

Regina was gorgeous, and was completely aware of it; the mayor radiated sensuality and she knew how to wield it to get what she wanted. 

The brunette’s pull on the blonde however, hadn’t been borne from tight pencil skirts and flirtatious banter. The former queen had allowed the saviour to glimpse beyond her mayoral armour of pantsuits and sass – she’d revealed her vulnerability. 

Regina had opened her self up – heart and soul – but now Emma found that she wanted more. 

_It’s a fucking mess._

The object of her affections being a woman, was daunting enough for the blonde – but what terrified her most, was that Emma couldn’t recall ever feeling this way about anybody before. It was consuming, it was exhausting, it was confusing... 

_What if Regina feels the same?_

_What if she doesn’t?_

Her fingers twitched to pick up the phone. 

_No._ She stopped herself; pursing her lips and returning her gaze to the laptop with a determined scowl. _Regina needs her space; I’ll just call her in the morning._

The saviour straightened her back, tossed her hair over her shoulders and refocused her attention.

“Ooh, Hot Blooded,” the blonde smiled as she spotted the track by Foreigner. 

Just as she clicked on the track to selected it, her phone came to life - and startled, the blonde stared down accusatorily at the vibrating object. Her mouth suddenly going dry, when she saw the name on her caller display.

Emma reached for the phone quickly, fumbling slightly as she swiped to receive the call. 

“Hello?” The blonde answered, trying to sound as casual as she could, with her heart in her throat.

“Emma, it’s Regina-” the brunette started, then sighed. “Of course you already know that, because it tells you so on the screen.”

Emma frowned. 

_Is Regina rambling?_

“Are you okay?” The two women said simultaneously. “Sorry,” they did it again and Emma smiled shyly, looking down at her lap.

_Casual,_ the saviour thought, sardonically. _Nailed it._

“Emma,” Regina paused for a beat, seemingly checking that she did in fact have the floor. “I just called to apologise for disappearing on you earlier this evening.”

“It’s fine,”

“No. It’s really not, I-” 

“Regina,” Emma stopped her mid-explanation. “It’s okay; no hard feelings,” she said honestly. “Besides, I’m the one that should be apologising to you.” 

“Whatever for?”

“Stealing from Gold is a bad idea.”

“It’s a terrible idea.”

“I know, I get that now,” Emma agreed. “We can discuss a new plan tomorrow,” the blonde heard the brunette hum in response. “Regina, there’ll be another way.” 

“I hope so,” to the saviours ear, the mayors voice sounded small and far away.

“There will,” the blonde nodded her head, to the empty room. “So,” she continued, not yet ready for their conversation to end, but conscious of keeping things light. “How did you spend the rest of your evening?”

Emma heard Regina shift – there was a soft rustling of movement; considering the time, the blonde wondered if the brunette might be calling from her bed.

_I wonder what she’s wearing?_ The saviour shook her head, as if to dislodge the thought. 

“Well, I fretted for a while,” a quick self-deprecating laugh escaped Regina’s throat. “And now I’m on the phone talking to you,” she joked weakly, but it conjured a small smile on Emma’s lips all the same. 

“You’re not tired?”

“I couldn’t sleep...What are you doing?”

Emma’s smile broadened. “Making your playlist.”

“The mixtape?” This time, Regina’s laugh was genuine, and the blonde felt a flutter in her chest in response. “You were serious about that?”

“Deadly,” Emma joked. “Besides,” she said, stretching her neck from side to side. “It gives me something to do.”

“Idle hands?”

“Something like that,” Emma absently ran a finger along the corner of her laptop, her tone turning solemn. “It’s so quiet here. After living at the loft with my parents for so long...I almost forgot what it’s like to be alone – you know?”

“Too well.”

“Does that sound pathetic?”

“Not at all,” Regina said. “A little needy maybe,” she teased. “But not pathetic.”

Emma laughed softly into her phone, before a drawn out silence filled the line between them. 

To the blonde, the quiet felt charged - and she held her breath for fear of breaking it. 

Eventually, it was Regina that did.

“Emma,” the mayor said cautiously, sounding as though she had pulled the mouthpiece of the phone much closer to her lips. “Would you...would you like to come over?”

“Right now?”

“Uh-huh,” 

“Regina, do you...” The blonde swallowed and shifted on the floor, her throat suddenly feeling tight. “Do you want me to come over?”

There was a brief pause before the brunettes response, the sheriff heard her exhale slowly before continuing. 

“Yes,”

“It’s late...” this was not a declination, Emma was giving Regina an out, which she silently hoped the brunette wouldn’t take.

After another drawn out silence, one which to the saviour, felt like a lifetime, she eventually she heard the mayors breathy reply. 

“I know.”

There was no emergency, no curse, no agenda, no mission; Regina was inviting Emma over company alone...and to the blonde, that felt dangerous.

“Okay,” she said, her heart hammering in her chest. “I’ll be right over.”

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> The song lyrics used were from Pat Benatar – Heartbreaker. The songs suggestions for the mixtape were from the Pickle Fingers Girls over at OUAT Anonymous...thanks for being my frequent sounding board – love ya’ll


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!!   
> How are you all?   
> Sorry about the delay folks – this one is big on feels and was therefore a little draining lol!   
> Thanks HEAPS to miss Kerrie who helped me keep our girls in character this chapter, whilst we drank strawberry daiquiris and sunned ourselves in my garden. It’s nice to have found a fellow ER living around the corner

Chapter 15

“I’ll be over soon.” _Click_

_Shit._

Regina sat bolt-upright in bed, her phone pressed tightly to her chest.

_Did that just happen?_

“Shit,” in a rather undignified manoeuvre, the mayor kicked her legs free of the comforter and clambered to her feet.

_What the hell was I thinking?_ The former queen paced the carpeted floor between her bed and the en-suite; her silk night dress was slightly askew, her hair mused from where she’d been resting against the pillows.

_Oh God! What does Emma think I invited her over for?_

The brunette came to a standstill in the middle of her bedroom; the hand that wasn’t still clutching her phone, grabbed at a fistful of her own hair.

_What the hell did I invite her over for?_

Regina’s frantic internalising was brought to an abrupt end, with a knock sounding at the front door.

“What the-” Regina spun around to glare at her bedroom door, wondering if in her panic, she had completely imagined the knocking coming from beyond – until she heard it again.

“She _poofed_ here?” The brunette said incredulously to the empty room before a third, louder knock, forced her into action.

Dropping her phone on the bedside cabinet and grabbing her grey cashmere bathrobe that was draped across the chaise, Regina swung her bedroom door open and careened down the stairs towards the source of the noise, flipping the light switches as she passed them.

As she reached the foyer, she had the presence of mind to steal a moment to catch her breath, before shaking her hair back over her shoulders, securing her robe at her waist and opening the front door.

“Miss Swan!” The mayor said sternly, trying not to be distracted by the adorable package the blonde presented in her oversized sweatshirt, short-shorts and reading glasses. “Are you trying to break my door down?”

“Took you long enough to answer,” Emma said, pulling her arms tighter around herself and the laptop she clutched against her chest. “It’s freezing out here.”

“Nobody asked you to come here half naked,” Regina scoffed, then stiffened when she realised that the way she had invited Emma over, could have been construed in exactly that way.

“It’s the middle of the night, Regina; they’re pyjamas.”

“You could have woken Henry.”

“Oh please,” Emma muttered, stepping across the threshold and into the warmth. “It’d be easier to wake the dead. Anyway,” she eyed the brunette’s attire suspiciously and glanced around the darkened first floor. “I thought you were already down here watching TV.”

Regina cringed as she closed the door behind the saviour; in her rush, the former queen had forgotten that she’d lied about being in bed. At the time, telling Emma she was sitting on the couch and watching TV thinking about her, sounded much less pathetic than the truth.

“I didn’t expect you to just to poof over here,” she snapped, going on the offensive to avoid answering the sheriff’s question.

It worked.

“Well, I’m sorry Madam Mayor. Did you want me to poof back home and drive over?”

“You do recall the phrase ‘all magic-”

“Comes with a price. Sheesh, Regina,” Emma rolled her eyes and climbed the few steps up to the lobby, in her socked feet. “I get it. Besides,” she turned around to face the mayor who was still standing by the front door. “You poof more than anybody I know.”

“That’s right,” the brunette folded her arms under her chest, defensively. “And just look at the consequence of my actions.”

At a minimum, Regina expected a snappy retort from the blonde for her snipe, but instead, she noticed that Emma’s eyes had drifted south. Instinctively, the brunette glanced down and realised that in her current stance, her robe had gaped open at her chest and her silk nightgown was doing very little to preserve her dignity. 

Flushed, the mayor quickly moved to correct her wardrobe malfunction – realising that the saviours current position at the top of the stairs, must have been offering her quite the vantage point.

When she locked eyes with Emma, however, the brunette was shocked to see that the blonde displayed no remorse at being caught ogling at all; in fact, she looked quite pleased with herself.

Regina swallowed audibly; a heat coiling in her lower belly, as a side-smile crept across the sheriff’s pretty features.

The saviour was enjoying herself, it appeared.

“Do you always dress this fancy when you're watching TV?” Emma asked, her eyes narrowing behind her black rimmed spectacles, a teasing lilt to her tone.

“Must you always dress like a hobo?” Regina countered haughtily, yet the tremble in her voice belayed her cockiness.

Emma watched the mayor for a beat, an uncertainty flashing across her features, before an unexpected chuckle erupted from her throat. The mirthful sound instantly diffused the tension between them and the brunette found herself smiling too.

“You really don’t like surprises, huh?” Emma smirked as Regina finally moved from the doorway to join the sheriff at the top of the stairs.

“Whatever gave you that impression, dear?” The mayor said, an apologetic smile touching her lips as she shook her head at the ridiculousness of it all. It wasn’t as if she’d had time to plan what would happen when Emma came over, but Regina acknowledged that they weren’t off to the greatest start. “Shall we start over?”

“Sure,” Emma said, a genuine smile painting her features. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Regina smiled back, her gaze temporarily dropping to the sheriff’s lips, before she inhaled sharply and brought her eyes back up to meet the blondes. “You look cold, Emma,” she raised her hand to gently touch the backs of her fingers to the saviour’s cool cheek. “Let’s get you some hot tea.”

“Um,” Emma cleared her throat as Regina stepped around her and headed for the kitchen. “Okay.”   
The brunette heard the blonde stammer – and she smiled to herself; even though she couldn’t see Emma, the mayor knew that her pale cheeks would now have been heated by a blush.

xXx

As Regina busied herself with making tea, Emma perched on a stool at the island, her chin resting on her palm, watching the mayor move around the kitchen.

_She’s so graceful_ , the blonde decided, a sight frown creasing her brow; being in the company of the former queen often made Emma feel clumsy and awkward...gangly even. It’s wasn’t as if there was much of a height difference between the two ladies, but to Emma, Regina had always seemed daintier, more delicate somehow.

The saviour inwardly smirked as she wondered how the former queen would react to being considered delicate.

_Fireball to the face?_

_Okay,_ Emma reasoned with herself. _Maybe delicate is too strong a word._

The blonde sighed; despite the unusualness of the situation, she felt entirely at home in the mayor’s kitchen. There was something incredibly domestic about the two of them both being there, late at night, in their pyjamas; it warmed Emma’s heart.

Regina’s lacy nightgown on the other hand, sent heat to a different place entirely.

As the brunette dipped at the waist to collect something from a low cupboard, the blonde’s gaze trailed over the curve of her ass through the thin robe...and quickly noted the absence of any panty lines.

_Oh God!_

Emma mentally shook herself and shifted in her seat; straightening her back, as if her slouch was somehow responsible for her minds decent into the gutter.

_How have I gotten here in just over a week?_ Not for the first time that night, Emma asked herself how the mayor had gone from being just Regina to being _Regina_ in such a short space of time?

“Red bush?”

“Hmm, what?” Emma asked, temporarily stunned by the question.

“The tea, dear,” Regina smirked as she leant against the counter on the other side of the island; the way she rested her weight on her forearms, offered the blonde another tantalising glimpse down the front of her nightgown. “Is red bush, okay? It’s caffeine free.”

“Uh, sure.” Emma straightened again as the former queen sashayed over to the teapot, with a little more swing in her hips than the blonde thought was necessary. “Red bush is good.”

xXx

Regina carried a tray containing a teapot, two cups and a plate of homemade cookies into the dimly lit living room; Emma followed closely behind.

They hadn’t said much to one another since their discussion in the hallway, and the former queen’s mind was awhirl with activity.

_I think you should tell Emma how you feel._

Regina wasn’t particularly fond of seeking advice from Snow White, but whenever it came to guidance on matters of the heart, the younger woman had come up trumps. She just instinctively knew these things about love, and Regina? Well, the mayor felt just as clueless as that damn dwarf Dopey. 

The brunette sighed as she placed the tray on the coffee table and with a wave of her hand, started the log fire.

She took a seat in the corner of the couch, facing the blonde.

The saviour’s hair was pulled back in an unsightly up-do, her tatty Harvard sweatshirt was so big that it swamped her slight frame, and she wore odd socks.

Despite all of this being incredibly irritating to the brunette, it didn’t change the fact that Regina wanted to push the sheriff up against the nearest wall and find out just what made her scream.

_Oh, for heaven’s sake!_ The mayor internally slapped herself. _Get a hold of yourself, Mills!_

The energy had certainly been different between them tonight; their flirting over dinner at the diner had been playful, almost innocent – but tonight – there was a heat between them that was undeniable.

On several occasions, the mayor had felt the blonde’s gaze upon her; emerald eyes blazing a trail; stealing a glance when she thought the brunette wasn’t looking. In those moments, the saviour’s expression had been anything but innocent; at times, Regina had thought that the sheriff looked down right predatory.

Strangely, this new information presented another problem for the former queen; it suddenly made things _very_ real.

So far, the brunette’s belief had been that the saviour didn’t share in her affections, which although heart breaking, brought with it a strange familiarity; Regina of course, was no stranger to heartache. 

But a courtship could be messy, an affair could have consequences – fallout. What if it didn’t work out? What if this was all just carnal desire, fuelled by pregnancy hormones and proximity?

_If only it were that simple._

Emma had taken a seat in the opposite corner of the couch and currently watched the mayor with expectant, if somewhat puzzled eyes – _and who could blame her?_ The brunette had invited the sheriff over, practically berated her on the doorstep - and was now…simply ignoring her.

Honestly, in that moment, Regina could not think of a single thing to say.

_This is a disaster._

A few beats of awkward silence passed, before Emma moved to pour the tea - and it spurred the brunette into action.

“Ouch!” Emma recoiled, staring wide-eyed at the Mayor, who had just slapped her wrist.

“Let it brew,” the brunette snapped, before mentally chastising her own erratic behaviour. 

The sheriff scowled and chose to swipe a cookie from the plate instead, before sitting back heavily on the couch, in much the same way that Henry did when he wasn’t getting his own way.

“Crumbs,” the mayor said, as she held out a napkin for the blonde – cringing at herself as she did.

_What the hell is wrong with me?_

“Jesus,” Emma complained, as she snatched the napkin from the brunette’s fingers. “How the hell did you cope when Henry was a toddler?”

“He was actually a very tidy boy,” Regina crossed her legs primly, and smoothed her robe over her knees.

“Really?” Emma raised a single eyebrow suspiciously. “What the hell changed?” She asked, before adding around a mouthful of cookie. “Did you make these?”

“I did,” Regina said, slightly taken aback at the unexpected timing of the question.

“They’re delicious.”

“Thank you,” a proud smile twitched at the brunette’s lips and she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ll admit,” she continued, starting to feel a little more relaxed. “Once Henry became mobile, there was an,” she bobbed her head from side to side, “…adjustment period.”

“I’ll bet,” Emma laughed as she rested further into the cushions of the couch, careful to keep the napkin positioned under her cookie. “At least you’ll have experience this time though, right?”

As soon as the words left the blondes lips, regret touched her features.

Regina faltered, her expression darkening; suddenly, she felt as though all the air had been pushed from her lungs. Discussing her baby in such a positive way, felt so wrong; at least until they knew for sure that her child had a future – to the brunette, it felt like tempting fate.

“Regina, I-” Emma started.

“It’s fine,” the mayor forced a smile and stood sharply to tend to the tea.

Behind her, she heard the saviour get to her feet; she felt the blondes hand at the small of her back.

“Gina,”

_Nobody ever calls me that._

At the shortening of her name, Regina paused her movements and turned cautiously to face the blonde.

“Talk to me,” the saviour pleaded. Her hand had now slipped to rest on the mayor’s hip; Regina could feel the heat of Emma’s palm through the thin fabric of her night clothes. “What are you thinking?”

The former queen swallowed slowly, looking down to the floor; the intensity of Emma’s gaze was too much for her to handle; she felt too vulnerable, it felt too dangerous.

“I’m just,” Regina started, her voice sounding small. “I’m just thinking about the plan,” she offered a half truth in explanation.

“About Gold?” Emma dipped her head to look up into Regina’s eyes. “You’re going to ask him for help?”

“For what it’s worth,” the mayor muttered, turning to sit back on the couch; she grabbed a cushion from behind her and hugged it against her chest. “Rumple and I have a very complicated history Emma, he may well refuse.”

“Then my parents and I will come with you,” the blonde offered, taking a seat next to the brunette and placing her half-eaten cookie and napkin on the table.

“I’m not sure how that will help-”

“Gold’s going to want something in return,” the saviour shrugged. “The more people he has the option to make a deal with – the more chance we have of him agreeing to help.”

“I can’t expect any of you to do that,” Regina shook her head firmly. “Any deal made will be mine and mine alone.”

“Hear me out-”

“It’s the only way I’ll do this, Emma” the mayor said with finality. “It’s the only way I can.”

The sheriff raised her jaw defiantly, but didn’t utter a word; she simply stared at Regina for a few beats, before resigning with a sigh. “Fine,” she said, her shoulders slumping in defeat. “But I’m still going with you.”

“Emma,”

“If that wand is our ticket to the past, then it has to be me that wields it.”

“I don’t like it,” Regina said quietly.

“It’s all we’ve got.”

“It’s not enough, Emma” the brunette shook her head, her voice was thick with emotion.

“Listen,” the blonde turned towards the former queen, sitting so that their knees were touching. “I understand you being hesitant in sending me back - but with Gold on side, that takes away a huge element of risk, right?”

“Once you’re in the Enchanted Forest, Emma - Gold will be the least of our problems.”

“Ogres?”

“No,” Regina said, a solemn lilt to her voice, her gaze dropping to focus on the cushion currently cradled in her lap. “I don’t mean ogres.”

“I know who you meant,” the blonde admitted. “You meant you.”

“I was an entirely different person back then,” the brunette said quietly, tracing the embroidered pattern of the cushion with her forefinger.

“I met you on my last visit, remember? I already spent the night in your dungeon,” Emma smiled thinly, when Regina looked up. “Trust me; pissing past-you off – it’s not a mistake I will be making again.”

“Emma,” Regina sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of her nose; contemplating how to best articulate the problem, without baring her soul in the process. “Pissing past-me off,” she paused for thought. “Might not be the only way that you could attract my attention.”

Emma’s frown deepened as she struggled to get the hidden meaning behind Regina’s words; the brunette saw the blonde’s eyes widen when the penny finally dropped.

“Back then,” the mayor’s cheeks coloured and she quickly diverted her gaze to look down at her hands, which she noticed were trembling. “I almost always got what I wanted,” she clasped her fingers together, an effort to still the tremor. “And I wasn’t best pleased, when I didn’t.”

“And you think,” Emma paused, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. “You think that the queen…”

“Will want you?” The mayor asked, looking up through her eyelashes, studying the blonde’s reaction – looking for a tell, for a sign of encouragement.

_It’s now or never._

“Emma,” the brunette proceeded cautiously, her heart hammering in her chest. “I know that she will.”

Regina was out there again; her emotions laid bare, her battered heart on her sleeve.

_Please…_

The saviour seemed frozen; her eyes unblinking, her expression unreadable.

_Emma, please say something…_

“Regina, I-”

Then, there it was - a glimpse of panic flashing across the blonde’s features, which was all it took to shatter Regina’s nerves.

“Then of course you’ll open your mouth and that will be the end of it,” the brunette swiftly the blonde off, turning away from her to pick up her tea and take a tentative sip. “Then we’re just back to the problem of you antagonising me again; which let’s be honest, is somewhat of a skill of yours.”

“Regina,” Emma looked stunned – like she was struggling to follow; she shook her head lightly.

“You know,” the brunette continued, standing, before the sheriff could ask any questions. “I’ve suddenly come over rather tired - I think I’m going to retire for the night, after all.”

“Regina, wait.” Emma stood too.

“Please, finish your tea,” Regina held her hands out in front of her, to prevent the blonde from moving any closer. “I trust you can see your own way out.”

“Regina, just wait a minute!” As the mayor moved to step around the blonde, every ounce of her energy focussed on maintaining her cool - Emma grabbed the brunette’s wrist and pulled her in close.

Regina was startled; her gaze temporarily locking with the saviours - before she watched emerald eyes drop to her lips. The brunette held her breath, unsure of what to expect - but as quickly as the blonde had grabbed a hold of her, she was once again released. 

“I don’t know what’s happening here, Regina,” Emma spoke softly, her eyes glazing with unshed tears. “I don’t know what to do.”

Regina swallowed audibly, Emma was standing so close; her proximity was unnerving, yet the brunette stood her ground. “You could tell me how you feel," she eventually rasped; her cautious brown eyes searching the blondes for an answer. 

“Confused,” the sheriff answered truthfully, then rolled her eyes, releasing a short self-deprecating laugh. “Not about you,” she quickly explained. “About me.”  
“There are no expectations here, Emma,” the brunette soothed, reaching between them and entwining the blonde’s fingers with her own; tugging on the digits slightly. “Whatever this is, whatever is happening between us – it has blindsided me, as much as it has you.”

“Oh, I doubt that,” Emma looked down, until with her spare hand, Regina lifted the blonde’s chin, to maintain eye contact. “Regina, I’ve never felt like this about a woman before.”

Relief washed over the brunette at the saviour’s confession; the flash of fear that the mayor had glimpsed on the blonde’s expression just moments ago – now made perfect sense. 

“Emma,” Regina said breathily, her heart swelling in her chest, as with both hands, she slowly removed the blushing blondes reading glasses, and hooked them onto the v of her robe. “I’ve never felt like this about anybody before.”

The saviour smiled a watery smile, and as the mayor moved to close the gap between them, she raised a trembling hand to cup the blonde’s pale cheek.

“Regina,” the sheriff breathed against the brunette’s full lips. “What are we doing?”

“I don’t know,” Regina whispered back, before finally capturing the blonde’s mouth with her own.

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeeeek!!  
> Thanks for reading guys. As always, I really appreciate your reviews and comments. Please feel free to let me know your thoughts; I love to talk to you!


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next one will be longer! Promise

Chapter 16

 

At the first touch of Regina’s lips, Emma felt a current passing through her body; from the crown of her head, to the tips of her toes – the saviour’s insides thrummed.

_Magic._

The blonde’s hands reached out to rest on the mayor’s slender hips – partly to steady herself, partly to draw the brunette closer. Regina eagerly complied, pressing her curves against the sheriff’s – her hands clutching desperately at the sides of her sweatshirt – deepening their kiss.

At the first swipe of their tongues, it felt to the blonde like a switch had been flicked. A heat spread through her lower abdomen and her hands took on a mind of their own; she lifted one to cup the side of Regina’s jaw, before her fingers threaded their way through dark locks. Emma’s other hand snaked around the brunette’s hip, settling on the on the curve of her behind – applying soft pressure and pulling their lower bodies together.

A groan escaped from the back of the brunette’s throat at the contact; which only worked to spur the saviour on. The softness of Regina’s body felt in direct contrast to the hard lines of Emma’s former lovers; her lips, her skin, her hair – they all felt so smooth and despite the blonde’s initial caution – she found herself craving more. 

With a moan of her own, Emma dropped her mouth to the brunette’s neck - gently nipping at the skin there. Trailing hot kisses across to Regina’s shoulder, the blonde pushed the collar of her grey cashmere robe to the side, tasting each piece of newly exposed flesh as she moved.

“Emma,” 

Upon hearing her name fall breathily from the Regina’s lips, the saviour faltered slightly. 

_Regina…I’m kissing Regina…_

Emma tried to shake it off, pushing the robe over the brunette’s shoulder completely - taking the strap of her silk nightdress with it and claiming the bare skin there with her lips and teeth. 

_Fuck. She smells so great…_

The cord of the mayor’s robe finally gave up, and as the material parted, the sheriff’s hands tentatively found their way beneath. When Emma’s fingers smoothed over the expensive silk that encased the other woman’s ribcage and her thumb grazed the underside of the brunette’s breast – it suddenly became all too real. 

_What are we doing?_

Feeling the heat of Regina’s body through the thin material, the intoxicating scent of the other woman’s shampoo, the taste of her skin – it was too much; it was all too fast.

_What am I doing?_

Breathless, Emma moved to rest her head against the brunette’s collar bone and dropped her arms to her sides, balling her hands into fists. Sensing the change in mood, Regina lay her hand across the back of Emma’s neck and rubbed soothing circles there with her thumb. 

“Well,” the mayor finally spoke, sounding equally as breathless. “That was-”

“Intense?” Emma surprised herself by voicing her thoughts, and Regina chuckled in response. It was a low, throaty noise that the blonde hadn’t heard before – it caused her to pull back to look at the brunette. 

The usually well-put-together mayor, was a hot mess. Her pupils were blown, her lips were swollen, her hair was mused – her night clothes were dishevelled and they draped provocatively off her left shoulder. 

Emma flushed.

_I did that._

Under the blonde’s scrutiny, Regina dropped her gaze shyly – grazing her teeth thoughtfully over her bottom lip, before looking back up at the sheriff through hooded eyes.

_She’s gorgeous._

The saviour felt a tugging sensation in her chest – her heart making itself known - before a knot started to form in her stomach.

_Fuck._

Despite her carnal need to reach out and touch the brunette, to reclaim those soft, kiss-bruised lips, Emma swallowed thickly and took a step backwards.

_I have to get out of here,_ panic began rise in her chest. _I need to go…_

“Emma?” Confusion and hurt passed over Regina’s features and she took a step forwards, but the blonde continued her retreat - pushing a hand through her hair as she turned and headed through the open door.

“I’m gonna go. I,” the blonde stuttered. “I’m sorry, I just-”

“Emma,” Regina hurriedly followed the retreating saviour into the hallway, shrugging her robe back over her shoulder and securing the tie at her waist as she moved. “Please, just wait!”

“I’m sorry,” the sheriff uttered again, as she simultaneously opened the front door and disappeared in a cloud of white smoke.

xXx

Regina stood frozen in the entrance to the mansion, a frown creasing her brow as she stared out of the open doorway and into the night.

_What the hell just happened?_

A breeze blew in, bringing with it fallen leaves from the front lawn; they littered the marble floor, passing over the brunette’s bare feet - but even they failed to drag her from her reverie. 

She’d been so careful with Emma; allowing the blonde to take the lead, letting her do all of the exploring.

The Evil Queen had taken many a maiden in her time and due to her reputation, Regina was no stranger to her lovers being meek. However meek wasn’t what she’d gotten from the saviour; not in the slightest.

Despite Emma’s admission that she had never felt attracted to a woman before, her precision flew in the face of her inexperience. It had felt to Regina, like the blonde knew _exactly_ what she was doing.

The sheriff had played the mayor’s body like a finely tuned violin – a building crescendo…that rather frustratingly for the former queen, never reached the climax.

At the first touch of their lips, Regina had felt the desire from the saviour surge through her own body; it was unlike anything magical she had ever experienced before.

It wasn’t ‘true loves kiss’, or anything quite as trite - but whatever it was, it originated in the blonde’s magic and confirmed to Regina, without a shadow of a doubt, that Emma wanted her.

_Maybe Emma simply scared herself?_

Even with Maleficent, where casting spells had often been foreplay, the brunette hadn’t felt anything remotely similar. With Emma, any sensation was much more intense; it was as if Regina was feeling what the saviour felt too, like she was experiencing things from both sides. 

It was pure synchronicity.

And so far, all they’d done is kiss. 

Starting to feel the chill from the night air, Regina sighed in frustration and moved to close the front door. She chose to ignore the leaves scattered around the hall; they were now tomorrow’s problem.

_Well, one of tomorrow’s problems, anyway._

As she moved back into the sitting room – the scene of the crime - the mayor wondered if Emma would still be joining her in speaking with Gold tomorrow; the blonde had seemed rather adamant about being in attendance. 

_As if the pregnancy situation isn’t complicated enough already…_

A fresh sense of dread settled over the mayor, killing any residual arousal she felt from the nights activities; in all the excitement, her pending conversation with that infuriating imp had taken a back seat. 

The window of opportunity that Regina had to make her mind up about her pregnancy was finite; confirming a plan to retrieve water from Lake Nostos, was now paramount.

_It must take priority,_ the brunette told herself definitively as she killed the log fire with a flick of her wrist and collected the practically undisturbed tea tray from the coffee table. 

_Everything else can wait._

However, an hour later, as the former queen lay in bed - it wasn’t thoughts of the Enchanted Forest and Lake Nostos that thwarted sleep – it was images of a certain blonde sheriff, in her short-shorts and hoodie. 

The brunette sighed heavily and rolling on to her side, she opened the drawer to her night stand.

Thoughts of Emma Swan still took precedence in her mind and until Regina had dealt with own her frustration - resistance was futile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next one will be longer! Promise


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Notes: Hi guys, sorry about the delay; real-life stuff keeps getting in the way – how rude *eyeroll*. 
> 
> Thanks heaps Kerrie for the beta – as always, your work was very much (needed) appreciated.
> 
> **Trigger warning for stillbirth**, if you think this will upset you, then please skip the dream sequence – it’s all in italics

Chapter 17

When Emma materialised in her own bedroom she was still breathless; she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the free-standing-mirror in corner of the room, and turned to face it fully. 

_Jesus._

She was a mess; her sweater was lopsided and loose tendrils of hair had fallen from the tie that once secured them, framing her flushed face.

The blonde took a step towards the mirror and tentatively raised a hand, touching her fingers to her lips…lips that mere minutes ago where blazing a trail down her best friend’s neck.

_Oh God._

The saviour closed her eyes and swallowed audibly; the sensation of Regina’s soft curves pressing against her own was still so fresh in her sensory memory. 

_Fuck._

She inhaled sharply as a fresh wave of arousal coursed through her body.

Emma Swan was no blushing virgin; she’d had her fair share of encounters (some of which were very memorable), but never had she felt as incredibly turned on as she had, the second that Regina’s lips had touched hers. 

The blonde openly admitted _(to herself)_ that she could be at times…a little selfish in bed; sating her own desires was usually top of Emma’s agenda, but with Regina…At no point in her sexual past, had the saviour felt such a deep, unrelenting need to touch another person.

_Maybe it was the magic?_

But it had been her own magic that Emma had felt pulsing through her system, not Regina’s - which begged the question as to why that had never happened with Killian. 

The savour frowned.

_Maybe it’s because Regina is magical too?_

_Magical?_ Emma scoffed to herself. _Total. Fucking. Understatement._

Opening her eyes with a frustrated moan, the saviour backed up and sat heavily on her bed. Flopping down on the mattress, she stared up at the light shade on the ceiling above, where cobwebs had started to take residence; she sighed heavily and watched as they gently swayed with her exhale. 

_This is all such a mess._

It felt to the blonde like things were moving too quickly; which she understood was an odd thing to think, considering how long it had taken her to actually realise she had feelings for Regina in the first place. 

_I ran._

Emma knew that it wasn’t Regina that had caused her to flee; the saviour had been running from herself.

_‘It’s not you; it’s me’_. Emma rolled her eyes at the cliché. 

But it was the truth.

Until recently, the blonde had always considered herself to be straight; she hadn’t spent a great deal of time thinking about hooking up with women. This week however, whenever thoughts of Regina had entered her mind, whenever the saviour mentally embraced her newly found gayness _(or whatever it was)_ and envisioned what it might be like to be ravaged by the former queen…she had never imagined that she would be the one doing the ravishing.

_But I’m not gay!_

Emma closed her eyes tightly; breathing deeply in an effort to re-centre herself. Her own reaction to kissing Regina had taken her entirely by surprise. Her own lack of control; the magic and the force with which her arousal hit her - it was overwhelming.

_You spend your whole life thinking ‘I’m straight’ and then like, bam!_

Regina was gorgeous, no question - but usually when Emma was in the company of a beautiful women, would feel envious – not aroused. 

The blonde frowned. 

This wasn’t about Regina being a woman, this was about who she was. 

_My best friend, the mother of my child, loving, caring, generous, smart, savvy (argumentative, stubborn, sarcastic), powerful, brave…vulnerable._

It was about the whole Regina package. 

_I’m not into women…I like a woman – one woman_.

Emma chewed her bottom lip contemplatively.

_Regina-sexual…Regexual…No, wait, that doesn’t work…_

_Oh, for God’s sake, Swan!_

The blonde mentally slapped herself and with a huff, she pushed herself up to a seated position. 

None of that mattered, Emma realised - but whatever she decided to do next, did.

The saviour glanced at her bedside clock and realised that she had lay internalising for over an hour.

Groaning, she reached into her sweater pocket to retrieve her cell phone and winced at the feeling of disappointment - mixed with guilt - that stirred in her gut, when he realised that there were no messages from Regina.

_Have I already blown it?_

The blonde suddenly realised that she had spent the past hour thinking about herself and her own part in the nights activities, and had barely spared a thought for the other woman’s feelings. 

_Does she think I don’t like her? Does she think I’m ashamed? Does she think it’s about the pregnancy?_

_The baby…_

Emma had run out on the brunette, without any explanation. She wasn’t even sure that Regina would want to talk to her again.

_I’m a jerk._

Wracked with guilt, the blonde opened her chat with ‘Mayor Mills’ on WhatsApp and started punching in an apology.

xXx

_Her skin felt tight; the pain in her lower back was unbearable._

_Doctors, scholars and handmaids surrounded her bed – all staring down at her with sad, sympathetic eyes as she pushed and breathed, pushed and breathed._

_She wasn’t ready. It wasn’t time._

_She screamed to the Gods; her ear-piercing wails filling the halls of the palace – and with her words, the queen prayed for their help. Wishing with every fibre of her being, that this time, they would heed her cries._

_Finally, the pain subsided - and there on the bed, a tone of blue and covered in blood, lay her small, lifeless child._

Regina awoke with a start, one hand flying to her abdomen as the other flung the covers back from her body – her heart in her throat as she checked the bed ad her night dress for blood.

_I’m fine…the baby is fine._

Realising it had all been a dream, the brunette collapsed back against her pillows, pulling the blankets with her. A sob wracked her slight frame, and she brought a hand to her mouth to stifle the sound, but she could do nothing to control her tears.

Regina rolled onto her side and curled into a ball.

It had been several decades since she had suffered that nightmare – a reoccurring dream which had plagued her sleep for many years; the passage of time had done nothing to dim the vividness of the memory, nor the impact it had on the former queen.

The brunette tried to breathe through the emotional fallout, the way she’d had to so many times before. Her heart hammered in her chest and tears streamed down her face, as she rubbed soothing circles on her abdomen. 

_My child._

Regina exhaled slowly and shakily – the panic wasn’t subsiding as it usually did. 

_I can’t go through that again._

She squeezed her eyes closed and gipped at the pillow under her head in an attempt to ground herself, but it was unavailing.

_I want my baby._

“Please,” the brunette voiced in a desperate whimper, as she finally released the reins on her anguish. “Please…”

Her cries echoed around the walls of the empty bedroom, but it didn’t matter that there was nobody there to hear her begging for the life of her child – the brunette had heard herself. 

It was a cruel truth; once again, the fate of her child lay in the hands of others – it’s fragile life at their mercy, and Regina was powerless to assist. 

“Mom?” 

There was as knock at her door, but before the mayor could react - before she had the opportunity to magic away her tears, to stifle her emotions - Henry walked into the room.

Light coming from the hallway behind him, illuminated his path to her bedside and they watched each other for a beat – both temporarily stunned by unusualness of the situation. 

In the end, the brunette’s need for comfort, outweighed her pride. 

“Henry,” her tears still falling, Regina reached out to him and with a stricken expression, the teenager hurried towards her; he sat on the bed and immediately took her into his arms.

“It’s okay mom,” Henry soothed her, much like she had him, when he was a child. “It was just a nightmare. You’re safe…you’re fine.”

Henry held on to his mother tightly, until finally, she calmed in his embrace.

 

xXx

Emma awoke after a fretful night’s sleep; she stretched out where she lay - both feeling her muscles and hearing her bones protest at the movement.

Moaning, she rubbed at her eyes, before turning her head and squinting to look at the clock on her nightstand.

**09:45**

_What?_

The blonde sat up sharply; her night’s sleep may have been fretful, but her morning one had apparently been quite the success – last time she’d checked the clock, it had read 4am.

The sheriff was working the mid-shift at the station today and had to be there in a couple of hours, but she was hoping to speak to Regina first. Emma’s sleep had done nothing to temper her need to reconnect with the brunette – if anything, these hours spent apart had only worked to solidify the fact that the blonde…had it bad.

Rolling onto her side, she eagerly swiped her phone from where it was charging next to her bed – but disappointment settled in her gut, when she noted that there were no new messages from Regina.

_I’ve blown it._

Glumly, Emma settled back on her pillows, and opened the WhatsApp chat she shared with the mayor - wondering if just maybe, there was something else that she could have said in her message last night, to express how truly sorry she was.

_Wait a minute…_

“One tick!” The blonde exclaimed, relief flooding her system as she stared down at her phone screen. “Why the hell is there just one tick?”

Emma’s message hadn’t been delivered.

_Shit._

Henry would be starting work in thirteen minutes and Regina could be going to speak to Gold by herself.

“Shit!” Quick as a flash, Emma shot out of bed, magicked on her sheriff’s uniform and disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

xXx

Regina walked slowly towards Storybrooke’s pawn shop; the staccato rhythm of her heels clicking against the sidewalk, acted like a countdown to her talk with Gold - dread tightening its grip on her, with every step that she took.  
Her son strolled along at her side; they hadn’t said much since leaving the house, but their silence was far from comfortable. 

Henry had barely left Regina’s side all morning – and as thankful as the mayor was for the comfort he had shown her after her nightmare last night, his extra attention was making her feel a little pathetic. She was a grown woman leaning on her teenage son for support and it was supposed to be the other way around; he was supposed to need her.

Although the of worst it had passed, Regina knew from experience that her dream would stay with her for a while yet; a residual sense of trepidation hanging over her - making her nerves raw. 

_It will pass,_ the brunette told herself, although there was always the risk of course, that she might have the dream again... 

“Emma’s laptop was in the kitchen this morning,” Henry broke the silence, with a statement that dragged Regina from her dark thoughts with a start.

“I’m sorry?” She frowned over at her son as they continued their walk towards Gold’s shop. 

There had still been no word from Emma; Regina had hoped that she might have awoken to a message or a call…to an explanation - but there was nothing. 

_Maybe I was wrong? Maybe she doesn’t want this? Maybe with the pregnancy it’s too much? Perhaps I should have waited…_

“Emma’s lap top,” Henry repeated. “It was on one of the chairs in the kitchen and I found her reading glasses on the floor in the sitting room.”

“Oh,” Regina responded, trying to keep her own tone flat as a blush coloured her cheeks at his mention of the sitting room. “I hadn’t realised.”

“I thought it was weird,” he said matter of fact, hoisting his backpack further up his back as he walked. “Did she come over last night, after I went to bed?” 

In her peripheral vision, the mayor saw her son looking at her expectantly, and she swallowed slowly, contemplating her words. 

What to tell Henry about their relationship, was something that the two women were yet to discuss – and at this point, the brunette wasn’t even sure there was anything to tell. It felt to Regina, like Henry wasn’t the only one that was being kept in the dark. 

“Yes,” the mayor started cautiously. “Your mother came over to apologise for what happened outside of the diner last night.”

“Why would she bring her laptop?”

_Because she’d making me a ridiculous mixtape – which we never got to listen to because we were too busy making out in the sitting room._

“Why your mother does a lot of things, is a complete mystery to me, Henry.”

“Right,” the teenager looked down at his feet, his face twisted in contemplation. “When I saw her laptop, I thought that maybe she stayed over.”

“Oh?” Regina turned her head sharply to look at her son. “Why on earth would you think that?”

“Why else would her laptop still be in the kitchen?” He shrugged. “Did you guys have another fight?” He asked solemnly. “Is that why she’s not here now? Is that why she’s not coming with you to talk to Gold?” 

“Henry,” Regina brought them to a stop outside of their destination and turned to face him. “Your mother and I didn’t have a fight,” she tried to reassure him. “Emma leaves her belongings all over the place – she’s messy; it’s one of her less favourable qualities.” 

“Then why isn’t she here?”

“Henry,”

“She should be here with you mom,” he protested. “She said she would be.”

“I am here, kid.”

Startled, Regina spun around to see the Saviour standing behind her; a sheepish expression on her face.

“Emma?” The mayor gasped. “You startled me.”

_Why didn’t I feel her magic?_

Regina frowned. “Did you just poof again?”

“I did,” the blonde said with a wince, as she took a step towards the brunette and their son. “And I know, it comes with a price – but Regina, I’m so sorry - I tried to message you last night, but it didn’t go through.”

“Y-you did?” Regina asked hopefully. 

“Yes,” Emma took another step towards the Mayor, but stopped short of touching her – seemingly, she had suddenly remembering that their son was still standing with them.

The brunette turned quickly to see Henry frowning as he watched their exchange.

“You guys are acting weird.”

“Good morning to you too, kid,” Emma quipped. “And look around,” she gestured exaggeratedly with her arm. “We live in weird.”

“No,” Henry eyes narrowed. “Like, weird for even you too.”

“Henry,” with her son’s mounting curiosity, Regina found her voice. “Why don’t you head in to work and I will be inside to talk to Mr Gold, shortly.”

“But Mom, I.”

“Henry Daniel Mills,” the brunette’s tone harshened. “Get inside, now.”

The teenager huffed. “Fine,” he said as he turned sulkily and opened the door to the pawn shop. “But I know there’s something you’re not telling me,” he threw over his shoulder as he entered the shop. 

“He is a smart one,” Emma said of their son with a knowing smirk, as the door to the shop closed behind him.

“He must get that from me,” Regina was quick to respond, and the two women shared a smile at the speed in which their rapport had returned. 

They eyed each other shyly for a moment, both drinking in each other’s presence, both flushing as memories of their last encounter flooded their thoughts. 

“Hi,” Emma finally said, an adorably awkward smile tugging at her lips.

“Hi,” Regina smiled back, equally as bashful – which she knew was completely ridiculous, considering who they both were. 

“I really am sorry, Regina,” Emma asked, taking another step towards the brunette; now close enough to consider it invading her personal space. “Did you want to read it?”

“Did I want to read what?” The brunette frowned, her body already responding to the blonde’s proximity.

“My message,” Emma explained, her eyes dropping temporarily to the brunette’s burgundy painted lips. “The one you never received.”

“Oh,” Regina nodded in understanding. “I’d,” she cleared her throat and took a step backwards – suddenly remembering where they were. “I think I’d rather hear it from you - but not right now.” 

“Oh,” Emma shrugged, as she pushed her hands onto her jack pockets. “Okay.” 

Sensing the blonde’s disappointment, Regina smiled at her softly. Against her better judgement, the brunette closed the space between them once more, and hooked her fingers into the pockets of the Emma’s sheriff’s jacket; her gloved fingers grazing the exposed skin of the sheriff’s wrists. 

“I want nothing more than to discuss this with you, Emma, but right now,” she glanced over her shoulder at the door to the pawn shop. “I have to see an imp about a wand.”

“You said I,” Emma said, her voice had dropped to a whisper

“I’m sorry?”

“You said I,” Emma repeated. “Don’t you mean we need to see an imp about a wand?”

Regina’s smile broadened “You’re still coming in with me?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Well, isn’t this cosy?” The distinctive tones of Mr Gold sounded from behind them and the ladies sprung apart to see him standing in the open doorway to the shop - a sly smile playing on his thin lips.

“Jesus, Gold!” Emma exclaimed, clutching at her chest. “Wear a fucking bell.”

“It’s lovely to see you too, Miss Swan,” the shop owner sneered. “And I do have a bell, it’s above this door – but it seems you were too _preoccupied_ to hear it. Shall we take this inside?”

With that, he turned sharply and headed back inside the shop.

“Excuse me?” Regina asked, barrelling in after him. “What makes you think we want to speak with you?”

“I didn’t say anything Mom’s,” Henry, who was stood by the entrance to the back of the shop, held his hands up in front of him. “I swear.”

“You didn’t need to lad,” Gold strode over to stand behind his counter by the till. “I could feel the rift in your magic, the minute you appeared outside my store. I assumed you were here to talk to me – lately I seem to be your first port of call when it comes to problems of the magical variety.”

“There’s a rift in my magic?” Regina asked, her voice small, her hand subconsciously dropping to her abdomen. 

“Not yours dearie, hers,” the shopkeeper waved an arm in the direction of the sheriff, before his eyes trailed over the brunette’s form – his eyes narrowing. “But come to think of it, there is something…”

“There’s a rift in _my_ magic?” Emma asked, distracting Gold from scrutinising the mayor.

“You can’t feel it?” He asked with a frown. “It’s quite obvious,” he said with a shake of his head. “Regina, you can’t feel it?”

“No,” Regina said, a frown touching her brow. She hadn’t been able to sense Emma’s arrival either, which was strange in itself – especially considering the blonde had teleported; usually when that happened, Regina would feel the magic before she even saw the saviour. 

“Interesting,” Gold said, eyeing them both suspiciously. “Well,” he said after a beat. “My mistake it would appear; I wish you a good day.”

As he turned to retreat to the back room, Emma and Regina shared a glance.

“Gold wait,” Regina spoke up, taking a step further into the cluttered shop, before dropping her gaze to the floor. “I do,” she faltered. “We do need your help.”

“Oh?” Gold returned to the counter and leant his elbow on the counter, resting his chin on his palm. “I am, as they say, all ears.” 

Emma took a step forwards and glanced anxiously towards Regina for the go-ahead, before taking the floor.

“When I went back to the Enchanted Forest, Hook and I returned by using a wand that was in your possession, one that allowed me to recreate a spell that had already been cast.”

“You recreated Zelena’s time travel spell,” Gold’s eyes narrowed. “I wondered how you’d made it back.”

“Right,” Emma pressed on. “It brought us home, but the wand remained in your vault.”

“And you want to know if I have it here with me, in Storybrooke.” It wasn’t a question. 

“Do you?” Regina asked.

“Of course, dear” Gold said chipperly. “A wand that powerful…But the real question is madam mayor, why do you want it?”

“We have our reasons,” Regina stiffened.

“So, you just want me to hand over this wand over to you, without asking any questions?”

“Could ya?” Emma asked.

“I’m sorry, Ladies,” Gold’s expression was incredulous. “Have we only just met?

“We need it to replicate Zelena’s time travel spell, Gold,” Regina finally admitted; her frustration with him barely masked in her tone. “We need to go back in time to the Enchanted Forest, to collect some water from Lake Nostos. There,” she gestured angrily in his direction as she started to pace the floor in front of the counter. “Are you happy now?”

Gold looked between the two women for a beat, before a cruel laugh erupted from his throat. 

“What the hell is so funny?” The brunette asked, as she stalked towards him, her right hand poised to call a flame.

“Regina,” Emma stepped up and grabbed the mayor’s bicep, halting her advance. 

“You are right about the wand ladies,” Gold explained, standing up straight and crossing his arms over his chest. “It will recreate any magic ever wielded,”

“So, what’s the problem,” Emma asked, sensing the anger pouring off Regina, in waves.

“Just once dearie,” Gold said smugly. “It will recreate any magic ever wielded, once.” 

“You mean,” Regina started, then stopped – despondency creeping over her features.

“Since our time-travelling sheriff here, already used it to bring herself home – the spell is now completely useless to you.”

The brunette was completely stunned; her limbs felt as heavy as lead, her heart sinking in her chest. 

_That’s it._

Her hopes dashed.

“Regina,” Emma tugged gently on the brunette’s arm, turning her to face her. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Mom.” Henry appeared at their side, his hand resting on the mayor’s back. “We’ll find another way.”

“It’s not your fault, Emma,” Regina said quietly, resignation in her tone before she straightened and started towards the door; she had to get out of there. “I should never have gotten my hopes up.”

The minute the former queen’s hand connected with the door handle, Gold, who had been watching the display with rapt fascination, called after her. “There is another way, of course, Regina.” 

“What?” Regina asked disbelievingly, as she turned and strode back over to him. “How?” She demanded, her eyes now glazed with unshed tears. “It took decades for my sister to perfect that spell; she was the first person to cast it – before that, time travel was nothing but a myth.”

“Ah, but never has such a powerful person as yourself, been so well connected.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Regina pressed.

“Gold, what are you saying?” Emma asked, coming to stand by the brunette’s side; her hand resting supportively on the small of the other woman’s back.

“What I’m saying ladies, is that there is another way for you to travel into the past, using that very wand – and I can tell you just what that is,” he glanced down at his fingernails, before fixing them with a wicked smile. “For a price.” 

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys! I’m back! I’m sorry for such a long delay – some of you may know that the operating system on my (NEW, might I add) laptop died and it has taken the shop two and a half weeks to recover the data.  
> Thankfully – all was not lost and I am backing up EVERYTYING now. Lesson learnt.  
> This chapter has a bit of a different flow to the others, in that the setting and time go back and forth. There’s a hell of a lot of plot to take in here – and the characters just standing in Gold’s shop talking about it, seemed a little stagnant to me…so, enter curious Snow .   
> I do hope it’s not confusing – but if I were you, I’d re-read chapter 17 to remind yourself what’s going on…I had to, and I’m wiring the bloody thing lol!  
> Thanks heaps to Emossoh for her speedy beta !

** DTW Chapter 18 **

**The loft, present time**

_Oh, thank God!_  
Snow White sighed with relief as she lay a quilted blanket over her sleeping child. Neil had been fighting his morning nap and after experiencing another a bad night with him (which, according to Dr Whale was _‘just a phase’_ ), the raven-haired woman was completely exhausted.  
Usually, the Charming’s would take it in turns to get up when their son awoke through the night - but because David had been pulling double shifts at the station to cover Emma, Snow had gotten very little sleep at all.  
She looked down at her slumbering child and thought, not for the first time, that motherhood was so much harder than she ever imagined it would be.  
 _Still, I wouldn’t change it for the world._  
Snow bent to place loving kiss to Neil’s brow, before resting back against the couch cushions and closing her eyes; if she could just get in an hour’s sleep before David came home from the station then…  
A knocking at the door rudely dragged Snow from her almost-slumber; the mother looked instinctively at her sleeping son, who thankfully, appeared to be undisturbed.   
Sighing heavily, the teacher hauled herself to her feet and softly padded towards the door.  
“Hey Mom,” Emma said as the door opened, a soft smile on her lips.  
“Oh, it’s just you two,” Snow said, as she glanced between the two women standing in the hall.   
“Charming, as ever,” the elder brunette retorted, coolly. “You were expecting somebody else?”   
“No, I…Regina,” the younger woman frowned, noticing the deep scowl that adorned the former queen’s brow; she looked exhausted. “What’s wrong? I mean, apart from, you know…” Snow dipped her head at Regina’s raised eyebrow, wondering how she always managed to put her foot in her mouth. “…everything,” she mumbled, as she side-stepped to allow them entry. “Sorry, come in…”  
The women entered silently, Regina throwing a glance over her shoulder towards the sleeping infant, as she moved to join Emma by the kitchen counter.  
The last time Snow had spoken to the two women, it was after their argument at the diner and now here they were, together in her kitchen.  
It was obvious to the teacher that there had been some sort of ‘make up’ conversation - and Snow silently hoped that Regina had taken her advice and told Emma how she felt; the stormy expression on the mayor’s face however, wasn’t particularly encouraging.  
“So,” Snow said, painting on a smile and moving to join them in the kitchen. “What brings you both here this morning?”   
“We made a deal with Gold,” Regina said flatly as she removed her jacket and draped it over the stool at end of the island. “Or more precisely, your idiot daughter did.”  
“Hey!” Emma objected.  
“Emma, will you keep your voice down!” Snow hissed. “If you wake your brother, I swear to God, Gold’s deal will be the least of your worries.”   
“Sorry,” Emma rolled her eyes as she sat down heavily on a stool. “God!”  
Regina raised her eyebrows at the teacher. “Sleeping problems?”   
“Oh, you could say that,” Snow sighed as she as she moved to grab the kettle from the stove. “I’m trying so hard to get him into a routine, but he’s fighting me every step of the way. It’s exhausting.”  
“Henry was just the same,” Regina nodded, a wistful expression touching her features. “He settled into it eventually.”  
As the mayor’s gaze travelled once again over to the sleeping infant, Snow felt the all too familiar pangs of guilt tugging at her own heart.  
 _How could I be so selfish?_  
There she was, complaining about something as trivial as Neil’s sleeping patterns, when Regina’s pregnancy still hung in the balance.  
“And now it’s a struggle to even get Henry out of bed,” Emma joked and her daughters attempt to lighten the conversation was not lost on Snow White.  
 _Be thankful for what you’ve got, Snow._  
“So,” the teacher said with another forced smile, choosing to move the conversation on, rather than elongate it with an apology. “Did he give you the wand?”  
“In a round-about way, yes.” Regina said as she perched on the remaining free stool next to Emma, flicking her hair back over her shoulders.   
“That’s a good thing, right?” Snow asked, as she filled the kettle with water, puzzled by the mayor’s lacklustre response.  
“It is,” Emma nodded.  
“It’s not,” Regina argued, then looked to Snow. “It’s complicated.”  
“Okay,” Snow frowned as she placed the full kettle back onto the stove. “What happened?”

xXx

**Earlier that morning, Mr Gold’s Pawn Shop…**

“What I’m saying is, ladies, that there is another way for you to travel into the past, and I can tell you what that is,” Gold shrugged. “For a price.”   
_Of course,_ Emma internally groused as she moved to stand closer to Regina. _There’s always a damn price._  
“What do you want, Gold?” the blonde asked; annoyance evident in her tone.   
With her hand rested on the brunette’s back, even through the thick material of her coat the saviour could feel just how tense the mayor was – yet she didn’t shy away from Emma’s touch; seemingly Regina was thankful for the unspoken support.  
“All in good time, Miss Swan.” Gold said, as he slowly strolled towards the gap between the two shop counters.   
It wasn’t enough that the former queen was having to ask for the dark-one’s help – oh no – Rumpelstiltskin had to drag things out; he had to make things as painful for Regina as humanly possible.   
“Before we make any kind of deal here,” Gold continued as he crossed his arms over her chest, resting his hip against the counter to his right. “I need for you to tell me, who it is that’s going back in time.”  
“Why on earth should that matter?” Regina asked, as she removed her gloves and shoved them into her coat pockets; Emma wondered if the mayor was readying herself to fling a fireball.  
 _I hate that we need him._  
“Oh, I don’t know… maybe I’m just interested,” Gold shrugged. “That was quite an emotional display I just witnessed. Tell me, why _do_ you need water from Lake Nostos?”  
“That’s none of your business, _Imp_ ,” Regina seethed.  
“You wound me,” Gold feigned offence, his hand splayed over his chest for dramatic effect. “May I remind you Madam Mayor, that _you_ need something from _me_?”   
The dark-one’s demeanour may have appeared relaxed, but Emma knew better. There was a glint in his eyes that was telling as to just how much he enjoyed having Regina on the back-foot; it was as if the brunette’s barely masked desperation, was just fodder for his own enjoyment.   
_Not on my watch._  
“I’m the one that’s going back,” the blonde responded, ignoring Regina’s protestations; Gold never gave a straight answer and the saviour was done with his damned riddles.  
“Emma!” Regina stepped to the side, away from the sheriff and looked over her shoulder at her, aghast.   
“He’s toying with us, Regina,” Emma reasoned, attempting to defend her actions. “He’s just trying to get a rise out of you.”  
“On the contrary, Miss Swan,” Gold shook his head; a grin slowly creeping across his face. “It’s actually pertinent to our deal.”  
“What the hell does that mean?” Regina asked, her eyes narrowed.  
“What it means, dearie, is that my deal - is now with the saviour.”  
“What?” The mayor exclaimed. “No,” she shook her head firmly. “Absolutely not; this is my deal to make!”  
“Oh, I think you’ll find that this is _our_ deal to make,” Gold pushed himself away from the counter and stood upright, pointing a bony finger at the blonde. “Emma is the one going back in time – ergo – she is the one who will carry out my bidding; take it or leave it.”  
“Regina,” Emma moved quickly to close the space that the brunette had now put between them; her hand outstretched. “It’s okay-“  
“Don’t touch me,” the mayor took another step away and snatched her arm back from the blonde’s reach. Her eyes were glistening with unshed tears, but that did nothing to dampen the intensity of her glare. “You know how I feel about this.”  
Emma stood, frozen; shocked by the ferocity of the brunette’s words. Her hand still hovered awkwardly in the space between them, before she realised and slowly drew it back.   
“We talked about this,” Regina pressed; her hands clenched into fists at her side.  
“Regina,” the sheriff spoke softly, edging forwards as if she were dealing with a startled animal. “Can’t we just hear him out? It might not be that bad-“  
“Not that bad?” Regina scoffed as she took an angry step towards the blonde – closing the distance between them once more. “Are you hearing yourself?” She asked, before adding through clenched teeth. “This is _Gold_ we’re talking about,”  
“I’m right here, dearie,”  
The mayor ignored Gold’s goading, her gaze fixed on the saviour’s. “Emma,” she pleaded. “We can’t trust him.”  
“Regina,” the saviour’s hands moved of their own accord, reaching out to gently wrap around one of the brunette’s balled fists – and this time, the mayor let her. “I’m not sure that we have a choice.”  
And that’s when Emma felt it.  
A tingling that started at her finger tips and spread through her system like a tidal wave.   
Just like last night, Emma recognised the sensation as being her own magic; but once again, she knew it was magic that she, herself hadn’t called upon.  
 _What in the hell?_  
The blonde looked down at the point where their hands met, a puzzled expression on her face and her breath caught in her throat; there was another layer to the magic that was pulsing through her veins…something that felt both foreign and yet familiar to her at the same time.  
 _Regina’s fear._  
Emma snatched her hand away as if she’d been burned. She stared at her fingers accusatorily– before her panicked gaze rose to meet Regina’s…equally haunted one.  
 _She feels it too._   
“Mom’s?” Henry’s voice sliced through Emma’s confusion and she looked over to where their son hovered behind them – concern twisting his young features. The saviour followed his anxious gaze to Gold, who was eyeing both women with keen interest.   
The blonde gulped, before shifting her focus back to Regina – who appeared to have already clocked the intrigue in Gold’s expression.  
Thankfully, she recovered quickly.   
“Gold,” inhaling sharply, the mayor straightened her spine and shook her dark waves back over her shoulders. “Am I to assume that Emma’s part of the deal, is to be carried out in the enchanted forest?”  
The dark-one cocked his head to one side, his eyes narrowing in curiosity before a lopsided smile tugged at his lips. “You would be correct in your assumption, Madam Mayor.”  
“Very well then,” Regina said, raising her chin haughtily; her hands were clasped in front of her, like she really meant business - but Emma saw the tremor she was trying to supress. “I suggest you name your price.”

xXx

**The Loft – present time**

“Unfortunately, our end of the deal is to be carried out in the Enchanted Forest,” the former queen grumbled, casting an irritated look in the blonde’s direction.   
“Which means that Emma has to do it?” Snow asked.  
“Yes,”   
“Oh,” the teacher nodded glumly as she placed three cups on the counter, knowing that this outcome was exactly what Regina was afraid of.  
“It’s fine,” Emma rolled her eyes and shifted on her on a stool. “He just wants me to deliver some stupid note to his past self.”   
Snow paused her movements, looking between her daughter and Regina. “But couldn’t past Gold having knowledge of his future, change our past?”  
“Apparently not,” Emma shrugged. “Do you have any bagels?”  
“And you believe him?” Snow asked, ignoring her daughters request for food. “This is Gold we’re talking about“  
“I have my reservations too,” Regina admitted. “But what Emma said outside the diner is right; Belle is expecting Gold’s child. Any changes he makes to the timeline, destroys his second chance at fatherhood. I know him; he won’t risk losing that.”  
“That would make sense,” Snow muttered as she lit the gas on the stove. With the extent that Gold went to, to be reunited with Baelfire - sabotaging his second chance, did seem unlikely.  
 _What’s the worst that can happen?_  
“So,” Snow turned back to face the other two women, folding her arms over her chest. “Now that you’ve gotten the wand, what do we have to do?” 

xXx

**Earlier that morning, Mr Gold’s Pawn Shop…**

The mayor wanted to scream; she wanted to rip out the dark-one’s black heart, and ram it down his scrawny throat.   
She wanted to yell at Emma. She wanted to ask her why - after the conversation they’d had just last night, did the blonde still choose to ignore her simple request?  
 _Any deal made will be mine and mine alone; it’s the only way I’ll do this, Emma. It’s the only way I can._  
Moments ago, when the saviour had touched her arm, reassurance had flooded through Regina’s veins; it had shone hope onto the brunette’s feelings of doubt and fear - but that sensation was short lived. It disappeared seconds after Emma’s touch, and with the absence of the blonde’s bravado pulsing through her system, the mayor simply felt weak and out of control.  
“Regina,” Gold addressed her with her given name again and she winced; it always reminded her of a time that she’d rather forget – a time where she had no control over her own destiny _(much like now)_. “Do you recall what I taught you about elemental magic?”   
“Of course, I do,” the brunette said, her jaw set as she crossed her arms over her chest; she hated it when he referred to her magic lessons – it was a way for him to make her feel small – like she still owed him something, somehow.   
“Care to explain it to our audience?” He said casually, as he gestured towards Emma and Henry.  
“Fine,” the mayor huffed and looked to Emma, her expression not softening at all; she couldn’t help it - she was still so angry at the blonde. “Magic is emotion,” she said somewhat snappily, and noted that her tone was not lost on the sheriff. “But in order to cast spells, we draw on the energy of what is naturally around us,” she moved her gaze to Henry, offering him a tight smile. “We use the four natural elements-“  
“Earth, Air, Fire and Water,” Emma interrupted, and the former queen turned her head back sharply to survey the blonde with a startled expression.  
“What?” The sheriff shrugged. “I’ve seen The Craft.”  
“Of course,” Regina snarked. “ _The Saviour_ learned about the magical elements from a movie,” she shook her head distastefully.   
“Hey,” Emma glared at the brunette. “I still know about them, don’t I?” She challenged.  
“It’s just ridiculous,” Regina continued her tirade. “Woe betide, you actually pick up magic book.”  
“What does any of this have to do with time travel?” Henry asked, from where he stood behind Regina - his voice intentionally raised in the hopes of bringing an end to his mothers’ pointless squabbling; thankfully, it worked and both women turned to look at Gold expectantly.   
“Thank you, Henry,” Gold dipped his head toward his grandson. “I’m glad you asked,” as he continued, he began to slowly pace the floor behind the counter. “Each castor - at least every castor that I’ve ever met – has a penchant for one element in particular. I, myself, favour fire – much like your majesty here, and although you might not be entirely aware of it Miss Swan, you favour air.”  
“I do?” Emma looked to Regina for confirmation, but when the brunette simply scowled at her – the blonde countered with one of her own.  
“But if a castor were to call upon all four elements simultaneously,” Gold continued. “A great power could be generated.”  
“Enough to send me back in time?” Emma asked hopefully.  
“Perhaps,” Gold shrugged nonchalantly and continued his pacing.  
“But drawing on four elements is impossible,” Regina protested, a puzzled expression on her face. “Even the most skilled of-“  
“Yes yes, this isn’t amateur hour, dearie, I am quite aware of that,” Gold hurried the conversation along. “Which is why I’d like to return to my earlier point,” he came to a stop behind the counter, by the brunette. “About just how well connected you are here in Storybrooke, Madam Mayor.”  
Regina fell silent, slowly absorbing Gold’s words – realisation starting to etch its way into her features.  
 _He can’t possibly mean…_  
“So, like, you two are fire’s,” Emma said slowly as she pointed to both Regina and Gold – seemingly following - trying to formulate a plan using the dark-one’s breadcrumbs. “And I’m an air...”  
“You’re not an air, Emma – you use air,” Regina rolled her eyes, before softening her tone; bickering with the blonde wasn’t getting them anywhere. “Which is beside the point really, because you can’t help us cast the spell at all.”  
“Why not?”  
“Four people need to hold the portal open, long enough for you to reach the other side,” Regina explained.  
“So, who then?” Emma asked, frowning at the brunette, before shifting her attention to Gold. “Who are the other castors supposed to be?”  
“Madam Mayor?” Gold raised his eyebrows and pushed for the brunette to answer, assuming correctly that she already knew of whom he spoke.  
Regina did know and she didn’t like it; not one bit.  
“They’ll never help me,”   
“Why not?” Gold grinned. “You’re a hero now.”  
“Which is precisely _why_ they won’t help me.”   
“Who won’t help you, Mom?” Henry piped up.   
“Will you just tell us what the hell is going on?” Emma asked, her patience worn out.   
Regina and Gold stared each other down for a beat, until the brunette finally conceded.   
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.  
“Zelena,” she started, but then Gold interrupted with his usual flare.   
“The daughter of a gardener, raised by a woodcutter.”  
“Earth,” Emma muttered in understanding.  
“Maleficent,” Regina continued with a sigh.  
“You’d be mistaken for thinking she used fire, but a dragon also flies….”  
“Air,” Henry said, sharing a knowing glance with his blonde mother.  
“Me,” Regina said, her hand over her heart as it beat loudly in her chest.  
“Fire,” Emma said and smiled weakly at the brunette.   
“And Ursula,” the mayor finished, the last name bitter on her tongue.  
“Well,” Gold shrugged. “No explanation needed there, really.”  
“Water,” Emma mumbled thoughtfully, - just as a wave of sickness passed over the mayor.  
“Excuse me,” Regina brought a hand to her mouth and ran into the back of Gold’s shop where she knew the bathroom to be. Reaching the toilet just in time, the brunette lost her breakfast to the porcelain throne; her heaving becoming dry before the nausea began to subside.  
She felt a comforting, warm hand land between her shoulder blades, and instantly knew it was Emma.  
“Go away,” the brunette rasped.  
The hand continued to rub soothing circles on her back and Regina feebly tried to shrug the blonde away.  
“Hey, look,” Emma persisted. “We can do this, Regina.”  
“We?” The former queen scoffed as she straightened her back and grabbed some tissue from the toilet cistern to clean her mouth. “Don’t you mean _you?”_  
“Is that what this is about?”  
“What?” Regina seethed, turning on the blonde. “Are you forgetting that just last night I expressed one wish to you – that any deal made would be my own?”  
“Oh,” Emma nodded. “That.”  
“Yes, _that_.” Regina scowled, her voice dropping to a harsh whisper for fear of being overheard. “Not only did you completely disregard my wishes during our conversation with Gold - you then proceeded to use some sort of magical whammy on me, to get me to agree to the deal.”   
“What?” Emma exclaimed. “I did no such thing.”  
“Then explain to me what happened,” Regina crossed her arms over her chest. “Because I felt _you_ Emma; I felt your confidence.”  
“I felt your fear,” Emma whispered.  
“Then you what? Hmm? Wished that I wasn’t scared anymore?”  
As realisation graced the blondes’ features, she took a step backwards from the brunette and pushed a hand through her hair. “Regina, I swear,” she shook her head. “I had no idea.”  
Regina frowned; was this the rift in the saviour’s magic that Gold spoke of? “Last night,“ the brunette nervously licked her lips before continuing and lowered her voice further, “I felt something… _similar_ …when we were-“  
“You felt that too?” Emma’s eyes opened comically wide.  
“I thought it might have been normal for you-“ Regina suddenly stopped herself and held her palm up towards the blonde. “Actually, don’t answer that,” she shook her head sharply. “Not here, at least; we can discuss it privately later,” she dropped the tissue into the toilet and flushed, before rinsing her hands. “We should get back in there.”   
“Good plan,” Emma looked over her shoulder and back in to the front of the shop, where Gold busied himself with the cash register. “But just so you know, I am sorry, Regina - truly,” the saviour took a step back towards the brunette. “I didn’t mean to manipulate you or whatever – I just really think that we can do this.”  
“I know you do,” the mayor smiled weakly. “I felt you, remember - and for the record, Miss Swan, that’s a lot of self-assurance you’re packing.”  
“Oh yeah?” Emma smiled and wiggled her fingers at the brunette. “You want me to dose you up?”  
“Best not dear,” Regina answered haughtily as she pushed past the blonde and headed back towards the shop. “Combine that with the rage I currently feel towards Gold, who knows what would become of him.”

xXx

**The loft – present time**

“Say something dear,” Regina snapped at Snow, who stood gaping at her from the other side of the kitchen island. “Don’t just stand there like that, you’ll catch flies.”  
“I’m sorry, Regina,” the raven-haired woman shook her head as she poured the tea into three cups. “That’s just one hell of a plan.”  
“Mom,” Emma scalded. “We were looking for a little reassurance here-”  
“Well, I’m sorry Emma – I mean, reforming the Queens of Darkness - the remaining ones anyway-”  
“You make them sound like a rock band,” Emma mumbled.   
“And the Wicked Witch of the West,” Snow continued. “It’s ambitious at best – dangerous at worst.”  
“What the hell happened to hope?” Emma got to her feet and started to pace the floor. “Zelena will help,” the blonde waved an arm in the direction of the brunette’s abdomen. “It’s her niece you’re cooking in there.”  
“Eloquently put, dear,” Regina raised an eyebrow, as she took the proffered tea cup from Snow.  
“And Maleficent will help you,” Emma shrugged. “You two were friends once, right?”  
“Oh, they were a lot more than that,” Snow scoffed and Regina almost choked on her tea, before fixing the school teacher with a glare over the top of her cup.  
The younger woman gulped.   
“Wait, what?” Emma asked.  
“Nothing,” both Regina and Snow answered in unison, before the elder moved the conversation swiftly on. “I will speak to my sister and to _Mal_ ,” she threw loaded side glance at Snow, who visibly shrunk back from the counter. “However, neither of them present the biggest challenge here.”  
“Ursula,” the teacher nodded, stating the obvious.   
“How do we even get in touch with her?” Emma asked, deciding to question Regina on her relationship with the dragon later. “Do they have like, magical-Messenger in the ocean or something?”  
“I could get word to Ariel?” Snow offered, placing her teacup back on the counter. “Let the Sea Witch know that you require an audience.”  
“Do you think that will work?” Emma asked.  
“What have we got to lose?” Snow shrugged as they both looked to the mayor for direction – and the brunette took pause.  
The life of her unborn child would now lay in the hands of three very unlikely candidates; a former lover, the sea bitch, and a wicked witch.  
It sounded to the former queen, like the beginning of a very bad joke…one which she could only hope, would not be on her.  
“Do it,” Regina finally nodded, this time with conviction as she rose to stand. “Please have Ariel contact Ursula - and leave the other witches to me.”

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See – heaps of plot LOL!   
> Does your brain ache? I know mine does.   
> I too learnt about the four magical elements from The Craft (great film) – so pretty much everything I have written about a witch’s use of them, is complete and utter bollocks!  
>  Please let me know your thoughts    
> TTFN


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Notes:  
> Thanks so much to Kerrie for her beta work and for putting up with my needy whining – cheers, love   
> I actually really enjoyed writing this chapter, as I finally got to write in one of my all-time favourite characters…  
> Enter the dragon….

Despite it being a Saturday, after leaving the loft, Regina headed straight to the Town Hall; she parked her Mercedes in its allocated spot and hurried towards the building.  
She had just blown the saviour off under the pretence of catching up on paperwork – but truthfully, all the brunette was doing, was avoiding partaking in yet another emotionally draining discussion.

The former queen felt a pang of guilt as she opened the heavy entrance door to the building, but quickly pushed the sensation away; she just couldn’t face it. The blonde had wanted to discuss their new magical connection over a coffee at Granny’s, but Regina was exhausted, her feelings already raw; she honestly didn’t have the capacity to deal with anything else. 

Apart from a singular security guard sitting behind his desk in the foyer, the building was always eerily quiet on a weekend – which today, perfectly suited the brunette’s mood. The term ‘emotional rollercoaster’ didn’t even begin to describe the inner turmoil she had suffered over the past 48 hours and Regina found herself craving the solitude that she knew her office would provide.

Upon entering the room, the mayor sighed at the site of her desk; even though she had only been away for a couple of days, the large pile of files that now greeted her, served as a reminder that if she wasn’t there, absolutely nothing moved forward.

The former queen understood of course, that this was entirely her own doing; her past desire to reign over very single aspect of her town, meant that even now – several years post curse – she still found it difficult to delegate. 

Regina dropped her briefcase and coat next to the files, before walking around the desk and perching gently on her plush, office chair.  
It was ironic really, that a person so terrified of relinquishing control, would find her life in such a helpless state. 

_My, how the mighty have fallen…_

The mayor powered up her laptop and as the computer went through the motions of rebooting (it had 12 updates to do, apparently), she sat back heavily in her chair with a displeased huff. Her fingers drummed impatiently on the desk as she tried not to think about the inevitably uncomfortable conversations, which now loomed over her.

_As if lowering myself to ask the imp for help, wasn’t humiliating enough…_

Regina straightened in her chair and clenching her jaw, she snatched a file off of the top of the pile – hoping that the mountain of paperwork before her would offer some refuge from her thoughts. She began to flick through the pages and tried to focus on the report, however as her attempts to keep her emotions at bay waned – her movements became more aggressive. 

Despite her efforts to the contrary, in her mind’s eye, the brunette replayed their interactions with Gold that morning; she saw the smugness of his expression as he laid out the deal, Emma’s swift acquiescence - and the worrying result of their agreement.

Their agreement, their deal, their contract. 

_My baby._

Regina balled a fist and slammed it on the desk next to the file – abandoning her futile attempts at distraction.

_Emma…_

The mayor had only agreed to the sheriff’s deal with Gold, because at the time, she was under the influence of the blonde’s magic; it had been the saviour’s courage that flowed through Regina’s veins – not her own. 

The former queen’s stomach rolled and instinctively, she placed a hand over her abdomen. The fingers on her other hand now gripped at the arm of the chair; her nails biting into the leather upholstery, as the full weight of what had transpired earlier that morning washed over her.

Despite now knowing that Emma had no idea what she was doing with her new magical talent, Regina couldn’t help but feel violated.  
The path had now been set for the brunettes worst fears to be realised; Emma Swan was risking her own life, to save that of Regina’s unborn child. 

_And I could lose them both…_

She closed her eyes tightly, her right leg bouncing on the ball of her foot as she bit down on the inside of her mouth. 

Her laptop chimed loudly to indicate its readiness for use, and the mayor opened her eyes. Her gaze fell upon the screen and to a photograph of a much younger Henry, before his first ever day at school. 

She looked upon the smiling face of her son and clung to that emotion; she homed in on the happiness they had both felt, the morning that photograph was taken – until eventually, the excitement exuding through Henry’s boyish grin, began to slowly melt away at her panic. 

Regina thought of her son at that age, of how he used sit and draw at her conference table as she carried out her mayoral duties; how his little legs, too short to reach the floor, would swing back and forth under the chair as he worked…he never could sit still.

_Much like Emma…_

The mayor’s thoughts then drifted to the saviour – to their feisty interactions of yesteryear, where the two would face off over her desk, to the first day that the blonde had brought the brunette lunch, to last night and the very moment when their lips had met for the first time.

A comforting warmth wrapped itself around the former queen’s heart as she thought of them both, of her unconventional family unit; the bruised muscle swelled at the thought that maybe, once all of this was over – they might just have a chance of a life together. 

_All four of us._

Feeling herself start to calm, Regina loosened her grip on the office chair and brought her hand down to join the other, where it still rested over her stomach.

_Love is not weakness._

The stakes were clear to Regina now; she had so much to lose – but also, absolutely everything she had ever wanted, to gain.  
With the image of that possible future held securely in her mind, the mayor reached around the files for the phone that sat upon her desk. 

It was time she did something to tip the scales in her favour.

“Mal? Hi, it’s Regina….Yes, I know it’s been a while…I was wondering if you might be free for a spot of brunch?”

xXx

At the sheriff’s station, Emma reclined in her seat; her feet rested upon the desk and she bounced the backrest of her chair, rhythmically against its springs.  
Her father was readying to leave and presently recounting his night’s activities; he filled her in on something to do with Leroy and a missing cat – but truthfully, the sheriff wasn’t really listening. 

_Regina…_

Their meeting with Gold that morning had been a success – or at least Emma thought it had been. They had a new plan to move forward to save the baby - and it was a good, solid plan…so then why did the saviour still have a nagging sense of doubt?

Admittedly, after their meeting at Gold’s shop, the blonde’s interactions with the brunette had been somewhat strained. Initially, Emma had chalked it down the mayor not wanting to ask the other witches for help…but now in hindsight, it felt to the saviour like the former queen couldn’t wait to get away from her. 

The blonde had thought, that as a minimum, the brunette would want to discuss the magical weirdness between them – but when Emma suggested it, the matter was simply dismissed. 

Meticulous, bordering-on-obsessive – Regina, had simply filed their new magical obscurity under ‘it can wait’?

_Bullshit_

Emma didn’t buy it.

“…and then I saw a monkey, riding a horse backwards down Main Street.”

“Huh?” Startled from her thoughts, Emma looked up at her father, where he now leaned against the doorframe to her office – arms crossed over his chest, eyebrows raised expectantly. 

“You didn’t listen to a word I just said, did you?”

“Um,” Emma looked sheepish. “Something about a monkey?”

“There was no monkey,” David shook his head with a chuckle and took a step into the room. “Where were you just now?”

“Sorry,” Emma muttered and swung her feet off of the desk. “C’mere here a sec.” 

“What is it?” Charming frowned and rounded the desk towards his daughter as she got to her feet.

“Give me your hand.”

“O-kay,” David drew out the word, his frown deepening as he outstretched his hand, palm up.

Emma quickly took it between both of hers and closed her eyes tightly.

“What are you doing?” The deputy whispered, and Emma opened her eyes; searching his puzzled expression for a reaction. 

“Don’t you feel that?” 

“Your hands?”

“No, not my hands,” the blonde rolled her eyes, exasperatedly. “What else do you feel?”

“Ummm…awkward?”

Emma dropped his hand with a huff and sat back down heavily on her chair. “Never mind.”

“What’s going on?” David asked, crossing his arms over his chest once more – the leather of his jacket creaking in protest. 

Emma sighed again, resting her elbows on her knees and rubbing her face with her hands. 

“Something’s up with my magic,” she sat back, picking up a Rubik’s cube that sat upon desk, as she moved. “Whenever I touch Regina, she can feel what I’m feeling - and vice-versa. I thought it might happen with everybody I touch now, but evidently,” she absently turned the sections of the cube with her fingers. ”It’s just her.”

“That’s weird,” David narrowed his eyes and leaned back against the desk. “When did you first notice it?”

“Last night when we were…“ Emma managed to stop herself talking, but couldn’t hide the blush that crept into her cheeks “…stuff.”

David hummed thoughtfully, before continuing; he was either oblivious to his daughter’s embarrassment, or chose to ignore it. “You’ve been spending a lot of time together recently,”

“So?” Emma looked up at her father, sharply.

“And Regina’s having a really hard time-”

“Understatement of the century,” Emma muttered as she looked back down and shifted the sections of the Rubik’s cube, in no particular order. 

“So,” charming shrugged. “Maybe you’re just unconsciously projecting your feelings on to her, because you want to help.”  
Emma stopped playing with the cube and looked up at her father, curiosity tugging at her brow.

_When the hell did he get so smart?_

“But I’m not in control of it, dad,” Emma shook her head. “I don’t even know how I’m doing it.”

“Magic is emotion, right?”

“Yeah,” her frown deepened. 

“Well,” he stood up from where he leant against the desk. “If your emotional attachment to each other is growing…maybe your magical one is too?”

Emma eyed her father suspiciously, wondering just what he meant by emotional attachment - but before she could ask him, he bent down and placed a kiss to the top of her head.

“You’ll figure it out, kid,” and with that, Prince Charming turned and left his confused daughter, alone with her thoughts.

XxX

“Regina, dear,” Mal practically purred as she glided into the mayor’s office, clad impeccably as always in a form fitting, grey pencil-skirt suit, complete with matching fedora. “It’s been too long.”

“Mal,” Regina got to her feet and painted on a smile as she rounded the desk to greet her oldest friend. “Thank you for coming over on such short notice.”

“I must say,” the blonde took Regina’s hands in hers and with crimson painted lips, she slowly kissed one of the brunette’s cheeks, and then the other. “I was a little surprised at the invite; we’ve barely conversed since you helped reunite me with my daughter.”

“Yes,” Regina looked down, feeling a little uncomfortable when Mal didn’t step back and allow her to regain her personal space. The woman had been in the mayor’s office for just a matter of minutes, and she already had the brunette pinned between her tall, elegant frame and the desk. “How is Lilly?”

“Adjusting,” the blonde shrugged one shoulder. “More importantly, how are you, dear? I heard about your…forest friend…”

“Robin,” Regina muttered, her expression clouding over. “And he was more than my friend, Mal.”

“Your _lover_ then,” the blonde said with a roll of her eyes and she turned away from Regina and slowly paced the room – looking around as if she were there for the first time. “This world has changed you, Regina.”

“For the better,” the mayor protested; straightening her posture.

“Perhaps,” Mal said, her full lips twitching as she swiftly turned around to face the former queen. “So tell me,” she stepped a little closer, a positively devious smile now spreading across her features. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Maybe I just wanted to catch up with an old friend?” The brunette cocked her jaw and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Less of the old, dear” Mal scoffed. “And please,” she invaded Regina’s space once again. “We were much more than friends.”

“I,” Regina’s hands shot to her sides to steady herself on the desk, which she was now pressed against; she was more than used to being on the receiving end of Maleficent’s advances, but she hadn’t expected the older woman to come on quite so strongly, this quickly. 

As the mayor thought of a way to gently turn down The Mistress of Evil without affecting the outcome of their meeting, Mal suddenly pulled back; she cocked her head to one side curiously, her eyes narrowing.

Regina gattered herself quickly and stood up straight, and after adjusting her blue dress where it had ridden up her thighs, ( _when did that happen?_ ) she slid out from between Mal and the desk. 

“That may have been true of our past,” the brunette came to stand at a safe distance in the middle of the room and the blonde slowly turned around to face her. “But as enjoyable as our time together was,” Regina flicked her hair over her shoulder with feigned confidence. “That isn’t why I invited you here.”

“Such a pity,” Mal smirked, “but of course I already knew that, Regina. I was just having a little fun, you know, for old time’s sake.” 

“Really,” Regina smirked and quirked an eyebrow; not entirely convinced. “I never pegged you for the nostalgic type.”

“And I never you, for being so easily rattled.”

“Excuse me?” 

“Out with it, Regina,” Mal snapped and closed the space between. “There’s something off with you, which I can’t quite put my finger on.”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Regina stood her ground, her hands clenching and unclenching at her sides. 

“You’re different,” Mal replied silkily, as she slowly slinked around the brunette; her movements not unlike a wild animal, stalking its prey.

“We’ve already covered that,” the brunette retorted, swallowing thickly.

“That’s not what I mean,” Mal’s brow furrowed and she shook her head. “I mean in the physical sense,” the older woman came to a stop in front of the brunette, blue eyes searching the younger woman’s face for an answer to her question. “It’s your energy, your magic, it’s almost as if-” realisation dawned on the blonde’s features. “Regina,” Mal gasped and placed a hand over her own chest in shock, “Are you pregnant?”

_How the hell did she know?_

The brunette was temporarily taken aback; she forgot sometimes that the wise old dragon had more to forget about magic than she, herself would ever know.

The mayor raised her chin and thought about denying it; every morsel of her being screamed against showing weakness – however now, there was far more than her reputation at stake.

“Yes,” Regina finally admitted in a shuddering breath; her chin trembling, her shoulders sagging with the exhale. 

“Is it Robin’s?” Mal asked, her voice devoid of its sultry edge; concern now laced her tone.

“It is,” the former queen responded throatily, nodding before her gaze fell to the floor. “I didn’t know until after he’d passed, I-“the brunette’s sentence tailed off and when she finally looked back up at her friend, she glimpsed something there that she hadn’t expected…she saw empathy. 

“My sweet, girl,” Mal said, her voice laden with emotion as she used a term of endearment that Regina hadn’t heard her use for many, many years. The older woman’s expression crumbled as she brought a hand to cup the brunette’s cheek. The unexpected gesture made the mayor’s breath hitch in her throat. “I, I didn’t think it was possible-“Mal continued. “I’d heard that you’d-“

“It’s not,” Regina interrupted, shaking her head softly and when tears started to fall down her cheeks, she took a step back from the older woman’s touch and wiped the wetness from her skin. “I can’t carry to term.”

Maleficent nodded solemnly in understanding, before another frown touched her brow. “Is this why you wanted to see me?” 

“Yes, I-” Regina fought the urge to wrap her arms around her own body; their conversation had her feeling exposed. “We’ve figured out a way, that I can save my child,” she splayed her hands over her stomach, her vulnerability unmasked. “But I can’t do it, without your help.” 

The blonde looked at the younger woman for a beat, before reaching into the space between them and gently laying a comforting hand over both of Regina’s, where they still rested on the curve of her abdomen. “Anything, Regina,“ a watery smile touched Maleficent’s lips, her expression sincere. “Just tell me what you need me to do.”

xXx

Emma was ravenous; all of this emotional upset was hungry work.

The blonde had spent the latter part of her morning fretting over her burgeoning relationship with Regina and how she might, yet again, have fucked things up with the brunette.  
The sheriff had now convinced herself (after obsessively going over their interactions that morning) that the mayor, must still be pissed at her.

_Maybe it’s still the whole accidental magical whammy thing?_

The blonde sighed as she crossed the street towards Granny’s.

One minute Regina was shoving her tongue down her throat and the next, she was ‘Miss Swan-ing’ her again.

_Is this what dating women is like?_

The Sheriff had to figure out just what she had done earlier that morning to make the brunette so standoffish ( _or more standoffish than usual_ ) but first, there was a grilled cheese with her name on it. 

Literally. 

“Hey Granny,” Emma said in greeting as she entered the diner and took a seat on a stool at the counter. “I called in a grilled cheese for take out.”

There was no time for a sit down lunch today; a morning of brooding had now rendered Emma behind with her paper work - which ironically, would only lead to her antagonising the very person responsible for said brood…

“Afternoon, Sheriff,” Granny said, in her usual gruff manner as she shelved a stack of clean plates, before grabbing a prepared takeout bag labelled _‘Emma’_. “Can’t take a break?”

“I wish,” Emma said with an eye roll, taking the proffered pre-wrapped sandwich and stepping down from the stool. “Thanks,” she smiled and turned to leave. “Add it to my tab?”

“Sure thing,”

“Emma?” At the unexpected sound of Regina calling her name, the blonde whipped her head around to see the mayor and Maleficent sharing a booth at the back of the diner.

She approached them, with a frown; her hackles were up. Had the mayor really foregone a coffee with her, in favour of whatever _this <,i> was with the dragon lady?_

_Doing paperwork, my ass._

“This is a surprise,” Regina said with smile, sitting back in her seat and, the sheriff noted, sliding her hand out from beneath Mal’s. “I’m glad you’re here actually,” the brunette shifted over in the booth. “Why don’t you join us? Mal and I were just reminiscing.” 

“Oh, yeah?” Emma spared a glance at Mal, who for her part actually looked a little uncomfortable. Good, the sheriff thought as she took as seat next to the brunette, sitting as close to her as humanly possible. “What about?” 

Burning down villages? 

"Oh, this and that,” Regina smiled at Mal again, adjusting slightly to accommodate Emma’s proximity. 

“Saviour,” the elder blonde dipped her head in greeting, before reaching for her coffee cup and taking a tentative sip. 

“Mal,” Emma forced another smile, before placing her hand on Regina’s thigh. 

The brunette stiffened in response to the unexpected touching, before clearing her throat and looking at Emma with an expression that deftly communicated _‘what the hell, Swan?’_

__

“Regina was just telling me about your mission to the past,” Mal said, smoothly as she placed her coffee cup back down on the table. 

_The plan!_ Emma mentally slapped herself. 

“The plan,” Emma said, blushing as she slid her hand back into the confines of her own lap; how could she have forgotten about the plan? 

“Yes, dear, the plan,” Mal continued, a smirk touching her red painted lips; as if she were drawing some enjoyment from the saviours suffering. “Time travel, is no mean feat.” 

“I’ve done it before,” Emma retorted, only now, there was less bark to her bite.

“So I hear,” the elder blonde said, her tone slightly teasing. “But still, that’s quite a risk you’re taking.” 

“It’s worth it,” Emma said, before looking over at the brunette – her expression sincere. “Regina would do the same for me.” 

“Oh, of that I have no doubt.” Mal said, flashing a knowing smile at Regina – who, for her part, hid her own expression behind her coffee cup. “Well,” the elder blonde said with finality. “As delightful as this little catch up has been, I really must be on my way,” she leant across the table, placing her hand over the brunettes once more. “Call me, when you need me?” 

“Thank you,” Regina turned her hand over to give the other woman’s fingers an appreciative squeeze. “For everything.” 

Emma watched the exchange, wondering just what had transpired between the women in the last few hours. The saviour’s overreaction at seeing them together was borne more of the fact the Regina had declined her own invitation for coffee, rather than who she was enjoying brunch with. Yet, as she watched the two women together, and she saw the fluidity of their interactions with one another – the sheriff had to fight down the resentment that coiled in her gut. 

“I’ll be waiting,” Mal nodded, before schooling her features and sparing a final glance in Emma’s direction. “Saviour,” she said in parting, and with a flick of her wrist, she was gone.  
An uncomfortable silence settled over the booth; the sheriff could feel Regina’s eyes burning a hole in the side of her head and after a few beats, she worked up the courage to turn and face her. 

“Hey,” 

“Don’t ‘hey’ me,” Regina snapped, as soon as their eyes met; even though she was still penned in the corner of the booth by the blonde, it didn’t make her expression any less intimidating. “What the hell was that?” 

“What was what?” Emma shrugged, sheepishly. 

“You know perfectly well, what,” Regina scalded, shooing the blonde out of the booth so that she could stand. 

“I just,” the blonde searched for an answer as she scooted backwards. “I don’t know,” she sighed, shoving her packaged grilled cheese into her jacket pocket. “I was just surprised to see you here, that’s all.” 

“So, you were rude to Mal?” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Well,” the mayor huffed. “Whatever it was,” she pulled on her coat and flicked her hair out from under the collar. “Do your best to stifle it dear – we need her.” 

“So, Mal agreed to help?” Emma tried to move the conversation on, falling in step with Regina as they moved towards the diner exit. 

“Without question,” the brunette said flatly, as Emma held the door open for her and the two stepped out onto the porch. 

“That’s great,” Emma said genuinely, as she pulled her scarf up around her neck; it was a cold afternoon in Storybrooke. “One witch down, two to go, I guess...” 

“Hey, Regina,” As they reached the street, the blonde paused. “Can I ask you something?” 

“What is it?” Regina asked, turning to look at the sheriff, as she fished her gloves out of her coat pockets. 

“Are you…” the blonde dipped her head and shoved her hands in her jean pockets. “Are you angry with me?” 

“What?” The brunette faltered slightly, running her fingers over the leather gloves she now held in her hands. “Emma I-” 

“Regina, I’m sorry if I’ve upset you,” The saviour couldn’t bare it; if the brunette thought that all of this was a mistake – if, after everything that had happened that morning, she had changed her mind... 

“Emma,” the brunette started, confusion coating her features. 

“I care about you so much, you know - and apparently that makes me do stupid things - and now I’ve got this new magical power and, I don’t know how to control it-“ 

“It’s fine,” 

“-But I think it might have to do with my feelings for you, or maybe our growing feelings for each other and-“ 

“Emma, stop!” Regina said sternly as she reached out and touched her fingers to the blonde’s cheek; using the saviour’s new power against her. The blonde instantly stopped rambling; reassurance flooded her system and she readily accepted it, in a stunned silence. 

“I realised something today,” the brunette rasped, slowly and shakily retracting her fingers; no doubt affected by the wealth of emotions currently coursing through the blonde. “I realised that this whole time, I’ve been worrying about what I have to lose - instead of focussing on everything I stand to gain.” 

“Regina,” Emma found her words, a sideways smile twitching at her lips. “Was that a hope speech?” 

“Not quite,” Regina’s smile matched her own, before it quickly faded. “Emma, I’m still terrified,” she looked to the floor again. “Of losing the baby, of losing you-“ 

“That’s not going to happen,” Emma placed a hand on Regina’s forearm and the brunette brought her gaze up to meet the blondes. 

“You don’t know that,” the mayor shook her head. “Any more than I know for certain, that we’ll fail.” 

“So, then what?” Emma asked, with a shrug. “No sense worrying about something going wrong, until it actually happens?” 

“Something like that,” Regina smiled, thinly. “We need to be prepared - and to have a witch as powerful as Maleficent in our corner…it doesn’t hurt our chances.” 

“Right,” Emma winced. “Sorry about that.” 

“You needn’t worry,” Regina smirked, pulling on her gloves. “I think Mal found your little display of jealousy quite amusing.” 

“I wasn’t jealous,” Emma protested 

Regina laughed, linking her arm with the blondes to start a slow stroll towards her car. “Yeah,” she teased. “You were.“ 

“Fine,” the blonde muttered to the ground, before turning her head to look at the mayor; another question playing on her lips. “So, are we good?” “We’re good,“ Regina smiled, squeezing the saviours arm as they walked. “But, there are still some things that we need to discuss.” 

“Like last night?” Emma asked, as they came to a stop in front of Regina’s Mercedes. 

“Yes,” the brunette smiled shyly and ran her teeth over her bottom lip as she turned to face the blonde. “Amongst other things.” 

“My new power…” Emma pondered. “You know, I don’t think that we ever need to speak again,” the blonde joked. “I mean, we could just touch each other and-“ at Regina’s chuckle, Emma stopped herself and flushed, crimson. “That’s not want I meant, Regina.” 

“I know,” the brunette quirked an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips. “But now you’re thinking it...” 

“Regina,” Emma’s blush deepened. 

“Okay, I’m sorry. That was mean,” Regina threaded her fingers through Emma’s. “Come over tonight,” the mayor’s expression grew more serious. “After your shift.” 

“It’ll be late-“ 

“I’ll wait up,” the brunette looked hopeful and she tugged on Emma’s fingers in an effort to draw out a response. “We can talk.” 

“You’re sure?” Emma looked into the brunette’s eyes; they were standing toe to toe, with Regina pressed up against her car. A passer-by would surely call into question the platonic nature of their relationship, but to the blonde’s surprise, she found that in that moment, she didn’t really care. Above all else, she wanted to know that all of this was real, that Regina truly wanted her back. 

She wasn’t usually this needy – it felt foreign, it felt terrifying. 

“Of course,” a slight frown creased Regina’s brow. “Emma, I’m not entirely sure what’s happening between us here – but I do know that I want to explore it,” uncertainty flashed across her features. “That is, as long as you do.” 

Emma inhaled and exhaled slowly, a silly smile stretching out across her features; it appeared that she wasn’t the only one that needed a little reassurance. “I do,” the blonde finally said, watching her smile reflected on the other woman’s full lips. “I absolutely do.” 

“Good,” Regina said as she took a step towards Emma, closing the space between them. The blonde’s breath caught in her throat as the brunette pressed herself against her, before placing a slow kiss to her right cheek. “Oh, and Emma?” The mayor whispered, her mouth briefly touching the sheriff’s ear, before she stepped backwards to open her car door. 

“Uh, yeah,” the blonde stuttered her words, a shiver passing though her body. 

“I like that you were jealous,” Regina said, with a sultry smile - before climbing into her Mercedes, and leaving the saviour standing stunned, on the sidewalk. 

TBC 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :)


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author notes:   
> Hey

“Mom, I’m home!” Henry kicked off his shoes in the entrance to the mansion and hurried towards the delicious smell that wafted down the hallway towards him. The teenager was starved; it seemed like ages to him since his mom had made a home cooked meal. Although Henry enjoyed eating burgers at Granny’s with Emma and having dinner with his grandparents - absolutely nothing compared to the 28 years his adopted mother had spent perfecting the art of home cooking.

_Please be spaghetti, please be spaghetti._

“In here!” Regina responded, as her son wandered through the dining room to join her in the kitchen.

“Smells great,“ he said with a smile, as he dropped his satchel on the kitchen island and moved to greet his mother, where she stood by the stove.

“You’re making spaghetti,” he observed happily, over her shoulder. 

“I certainly am,” she said with a smile, as she stirred a pot of tomato sauce.

“Awesome!” He exclaimed and placed a kiss to her cheek, before stepping back to allow her the space to work and she chuckled softly at his response. 

“How was work, sweetheart?”

“Interesting.” 

“Oh,” The mayor said distractedly, whilst she sprinkled some basil into the pan. “How so?”

“Well, after you left,” he took a seat on a stool at the island. “Grandpa kept asking me questions about you and ma’.” 

“He did?” Regina asked, as she removed her apron and hung it on a hook by the door to the pantry. ”Like what?” 

“Like, why you’ve been spending so much together,” he said casually. “And why you both left Storybrooke this week.”

“He knows we left Storybrooke?” The mayor joined her son at the kitchen island, concern tugging at her brow. “Of course he does,” she rolled her eyes at her own question. “What did you tell him?”

“That ma’ had some stuff to do back in Boston,” the teenager absently swivelled on the rotating seat of his stool as he spoke. “And that you went to help her because you’re friends now.”

“And he believed you?” The mayor raised her eyebrows and folded her arms over her chest – seemingly unconvinced.

“I guess,” Henry shrugged.

“Right,” she frowned, her worried gaze drifting with her thoughts.

“Um...Mom?”

“Yes, Henry?” The mayor snapped her gaze back to meet his. 

“What happened between you and ma’?”

A panicked expression - that did nothing but pique her son’s interest – fell over Regina’s features, before she turned to retrieve their dinner plates from the counter. “I’m not quite sure what you’re referring to,” she finally answered, before heading with the crockery into the dining room.

“I mean, when ma’ grabbed your hand in the shop today,” the teenager explained as he followed his mother out of the kitchen. “You both froze, like,” he came to a dramatic pause, impersonating their stance. “What happened?”

“Oh,” Regina said, sounding a little more relaxed as she lay the plates on the dining table and moved to grab some cutlery from the sideboard. “That.”

“Yeah,” Henry moved to stand between the brunette and the dining table, temporarily blocking her path; he knew when his mother was hiding something. “Why? What did you think I meant?”

“I wasn’t sure what you meant, Henry,” Regina answered swiftly, with a shake of her head. “But, if you must know, your mother appears to have developed a new…magical ability.”

“Mom has a new power?” He asked excitedly. “Cool! What is it? Please say it’s flying-”

“No, not flying,” she rounded her son and moved towards the table. “The ability to feel emotions through touch-” 

“Like an empath?” 

“Of sorts,” the brunette agreed, as she placed the silverware around the plates on the table; her movements meticulous. “When Emma took my hand in the shop this morning, she not only read my emotions – but projected her own onto me.”

“She can change people’s emotions?” 

“Not people,” Regina paused her movements and looked up at her son. “Just me,” she shifted to rest her hands on the back of a dining chair. “Your mother said she’d tried connecting in the same way with David at the station earlier, but it didn’t work.”

Henry looked pensively at his mother; he was sure that there was still something she wasn’t telling him. “Do you think it has something to do with the baby?” 

“No,” the brunette shook a head; a sadness in her eyes. “Robin didn’t have magic-”

“But you do,” Henry pressed his point. “I mean, how do you know that it’s just mom’s magic?”

“Because her magic has a signature,” Regina explained as she wrapped her fingers around the wooden frame of the chair. “I’m certain it’s Emma’s magic.”

“But then, why now?” The teenager’s face screwed up in confusion; none this made any sense to him – the timing was suspicious. “I don’t get it – other than the baby, what else has changed?”

Regina stared at him and for a beat; a flash of something he couldn’t read passed over her features, before she quickly schooled them. “Nothing I can think of,” she said flatly, a thin smile appearing on her lips. “But,” she inhaled sharply and moved around the table towards her son. “I’m sure we will figure it out. “

“Alright,” Henry said cautiously, not entirely satisfied by his mother’s answer. “Did you want me to hit the books after dinner? I’ll see what I can find.”

“That would be very helpful, Henry,” Regina said, her smile broadening as she placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it an affectionate squeeze. “Now,” she continued as she strode past him towards the kitchen. “Why don’t you go and wash up before we eat; who knows what undesirable things you’ve been handling in that filthy pawn shop.”

_Seriously?_

“Mom,” Henry moaned, cringing at his mother’s choice of words, as he trudged to the bathroom to wash his hands - but even her innocently delivered faux-pas, couldn’t distract him from the fact that something was off. The teenager knew that his mom was hiding something from him, and he was determined to find out exactly what that something was.

xXx

“For the record Leroy, I hate you,” Sheriff Swan spoke though clenched teeth as she hauled the dead weight that was Grumpy, up the steps and into the station. “I should have let those Vikings kick your sorry ass.”   
Emma was already supposed to have diverted the office phones to her cell and clocked off for the night, but as she’d been preparing to leave, an anxious call came in from the barkeep at the Rabbit Hole. A fight had broken out over a pool game apparently - and typically, the town’s resident drunk, had found himself front and centre of the chaos. 

“I’m supposed to be at Regina’s right now – but no,” the saviour griped as she manhandled the dwarf across the office, using her magic to open the cell door as she moved. She would have used her powers to transport him across town and into the cell, but the blonde had already learned the hard way, that drunken dwarves and poofing-induced-motion-sickness were a terrible combination. “Instead, here I am, dragging your-” the sheriff paused and looked down at him accusatorily. “Oh my God, did you just fart?” 

The stifled snort that the blonde’s exclamation gleamed from Leroy, was confirmation enough.

“You smelly bastard,” Emma recoiled and as she reached the cell door, she unceremoniously shoved the dwarf towards the bed. “For that,” the blonde stepped backwards and straightened out her jacket, which had gotten twisted in the struggle. “You get no painkillers.”

Grumpy waved his arm at her dismissively, before flopping down face-first on to the mattress.

“Come on, Leroy,” the sheriff called irritably from the doorway. “Roll onto your side; you know the drill.” She watched as the dwarf sluggishly twisted on the bed to rest in the ‘recovery position’, before she stepped out of the cell and locked him in for the night. “There’s a bucket on the floor by your head – try not to miss it this time.” 

Fifteen minutes later, Emma parked the police cruiser outside the mayor’s mansion and scanned the building for signs of life. The curtains were all drawn and aside from the porch light, the house was coated in darkness.

The sheriff grabbed her phone from where it sat in the centre console, and re-read their messages from earlier that evening.

**EMMA (10:31): FFS! Shit hit the fan at the Rabbit Hole xx  
REGINA (10:32): Emma, its fine; go sheriff - I’ll wait up.   
EMMA (11:14): Leroy v’s Vikings, it’s gonna take a while. Sorry xx  
REGINA (11:27): I hate that dwarf.   
REGINA (11:46): Just let yourself in, so as not to wake Henry   
REGINA (11:46): xx **

Emma smiled like an idiot for the second time that night, as she imagined the self-deprecating expression that would have adorned the brunette’s face, when she punched those kisses into that last message.

_Seriously, the blonde rolled her eyes at herself. When did I become such a sap?_

She still couldn’t fully comprehend what was happening between them; this promised ‘conversation’ with Regina had been looming over the saviour all day, clouding her thoughts and distracting her from her work.

The blonde looked back up at the darkened mansion and wondered what awaited her on the other side of the door; there was no doubt in her mind that whatever happened tonight - it was going to bring about change.

The Emma of old, was pretty fluid; she could change with the weather and not forming relationships meant, that if she was unhappy with a situation, she could just up and leave. 

The sheriff now however, had more love in her life than she ever thought was possible. The blonde had located her son, discovered her loving parents, gained a baby brother and formed some incredibly strong bonds with the people of Storybrooke. 

To sum things up, Emma Swan now had roots.

But what would happen to those roots, if her doting family found out about the development in her relationship with Regina?  
Henry would accept it, Emma was sure. I mean, what kid doesn’t want their folks to be together? 

But her parents…maybe not.

Regina and Snow had both made amends for their blood feud - and now, they could even be considered to be friends. Although it was one for thing for Emma’s parents to befriend their former enemy - it was quite another for them to be comfortable with said adversary, ‘banging their daughter’.

_Former enemy AND stepmother_ , the blonde reminded herself; as if things weren’t complicated enough.

That said, after much consideration (when she should have been filing reports) Emma realised, that worrying about what if’s and the reactions of others, was in fact completely pointless. When it came to her feelings for Regina, she was already way past the point of return. 

Her desire for the brunette already outweighed her desire to run…which, in itself should have terrified the blonde, but strangely - it did not.

Regina’s teasing earlier had been the sheriff’s undoing; ever since, all she had been able to think about was that kiss… and what might have happened if she hadn’t chosen to run away.

_Well, there’s only one way to find out._

Sighing, Emma tucked her phone away in her pocket and exited the vehicle. 

She felt a flutter of nerves in her gut as she headed up the pathway towards the house and with a deep, centring breath, she tentatively turned the door knob and entered the mansion.

“Shit!” Emma grabbed her chest in shock, as she spotted Henry by the entrance to the dining room. “You almost killed me; what the hell are you doing?”

“Um, I live here,” Henry answered casually, before taking a bite of his sandwich; he was back lit by light from the kitchen, which gave him a horror movie-esq glow. “I was hungry. What’s your excuse?”

_Good question._

“Your mom asked me to drop by after work.” 

“Why?”

_Even better question._

“Just, something to do with the plan.”

“And she told you to just let yourself in?”

“She didn’t want me to wake you, Columbo – now, are we done with the twenty questions?”

Henry shrugged and took another bite of his sandwich. “She’s asleep on the couch,” he mumbled around the mouthful of food, as he sloped past the blonde towards the staircase. “And who’s Columbo, anyway?”

“What? How can you not know-“ 

“Don’t!” Before Emma had a chance to finish questioning their son’s choices in TV viewing, Regina calling out from the sitting room, interrupted their conversation.

“Don’t what?” The blonde frowned as she climbed the small set of stairs from the front door and headed towards the sound of the brunette’s voice. “Regina wha-“

The sheriff stopped short at the entrance to the room, when she took in the mayor’s still slumbering form. Regina lay on the couch, propped up by cushions, with a blanket tangled around her legs; the book she must have been reading, now lay on the floor and her cell phone was resting on her chest. 

“She’s having another nightmare,” Henry said sullenly, as he came to stand by Emma’s side. 

“Another one?” The blonde asked quietly, as she turned to face their son.

“No,” Regina muttered, as she stirred. “Don’t.”

“Yeah,” Henry said as he moved towards the couch and gently pulled the blanket back up and over his mother; Emma’s heart just about melted at the site. “She woke up screaming last night,” their son continued to explain in a whisper, as he looked down at the sleeping brunette. “Which is why I didn’t wake her when she fell asleep on the couch,” he moved back over to stand by the blonde. “She needs her rest, you know.”

“You’re a great son,” Emma smiled at him, placing a hand on his bicep. “You know that?”

Henry smiled sadly and looked over his shoulder to Regina. “Can you help her?”

“Me?” Emma frowned. “How?”

“Your new power,” Henry explained. “Mom told me.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea, kid,” the blonde shook her head. “Your mom didn’t like when I used my power last time – and that wasn’t even on purpose-“

“But she was so upset when she woke up last night,” the stricken look on her son’s face tugged at the saviours heart. “It can’t be good for the baby.”

“Henry I,” Emma paused and looked at the mayor; even in the darkened room, the sheriff could make out the panic etching its way across the brunette’s face.

_What the hell is she dreaming about?_

It was the pregnancy hormones - the blonde knew it. The saviour recalled having incredibly vivid dreams when she was pregnant with Henry; terrible nightmares which would stay with her for hours after she awoke…Back then, she would have done absolutely anything to make them go away. 

“Mom, please-“

“Okay,” the blonde said and held her hands up, reluctantly surrendering. “But if Regina wakes up and throws a fireball at my face, you are in so much trouble.”

“Deal,” Henry beamed, as Emma crept slowly across the room towards the sleeping mayor. She removed her sheriff’s jacket and draped it over nearby chair, before taking a perch on the coffee table.

“Alright,” the blonde said, as she stretched her neck out from side to side and cracked her fingers in preparation. “Let’s do this,” swallowing thickly, the saviour spared one more glance at their son, before taking the brunette’s trembling hand, in hers.

The second their hands touched, the saviour gasped at the feeling of anguish that swept over her.

“Mom, are you okay?” Henry took a cautious step towards his two mothers; his expression wrought with concern.

“Yeah,” the blonde choked, gritting her teeth against the wave of anxiety that swept through her system. “I just need to…push it…down.”

Emma closed her eyes tightly and thought of everything that made her happy.  
At first it was the small things like sunshine, bear claws and lazy pyjama days. When all of those failed to conjure enough emotion to keep Regina’s fear at bay, Emma shifted it up a gear and thought about Henry, about her parents and then about the brunette herself…about kissing her, about wandering hands…

“Emma-” 

_Oh-oh_

The sheriff opened her eyes quickly and looked down at the mayor; the way Regina had just said the blonde’s name, sounded (and felt) a lot less like anxiety and a lot more like…arousal.

_Oh shit_

“She knows it’s you,” Henry voiced innocently from behind them and Emma dropped the brunettes hand like it was on fire. 

“You did it, mom,” their son grinned, completely oblivious to what had just transpired. “You took away her nightmare.”

“I,“ Emma stuttered, wiping her now sweaty palm on her jeans, before standing on shaky legs. “I guess I did.” 

“Do you think it will stay away?” He asked, looking down at the sleeping brunette, who still held a faint smile on her lips.

“Emma,” the brunette moaned again and shifted her legs under the blanket; the saviour was glad that the room was dark, so her son couldn’t see the blush or sheer panic that swept over her own features.

“I’m not sure, kid,” the blonde said quickly and tugged at the collar of her sweater; it suddenly felt very hot in the room. “You know what? Why don’t you go to bed and I’ll hang around down here for a while - see if her nightmare comes back.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah,” the blonde smiled tightly. “No sense us both losing sleep.”

“Alright,” he turned to leave. “You’ll wake me if you need me?” 

“Scout’s honour,” Emma mock-saluted, then as she watched her son’s retreating form, she pushed both of her hands through her hair.

_What the actual fuck?_

She stared at the ceiling, her hands cradling the back of her own head.

The blonde knew that the last time she had used her new power, the affects were only temporary; if Regina’s nightmare came back, then the sheriff would need to figure out a way to stifle it, without accidently arousing the unsuspecting and unconscious woman. 

If Regina had felt violated by Emma accidently using her new power in Gold’s shop - the blonde couldn’t even imagine how pissed she’s be about this new development.

_How the hell do I get myself into these situations?_

“Damn it, Swan,” the blonde muttered to the quiet room, before turning back around to face the sleeping brunette. 

xXx

Minutes earlier…

Regina Mills was dreaming again.

She was back in the Enchanted Forest and in the throes of labour; that same, all-consuming, feeling of helplessness coiled itself around her chest and it was suffocating. She wanted to scream, to let out an ear-piercing cry for everything to stop - until suddenly, she didn’t...

_The former queen’s pain slowly started to subside and everything around her - the cold room of her castle and all her royal subjects, simply shattered; falling to the floor like broken glass._

_The mayor now found herself in the sitting room of the mansion and the space felt warm and welcoming. It was illuminated by flickering light from the open fire, which gave everything that it touched a warm glow - including her beautiful and valiant saviour._

_The silk of Regina’s nightgown felt cool against her heated skin, as she strode confidently towards the blonde, who was once again dressed in her short shorts and a hoodie._

_Without saying a word, she took Emma’s face in her hands and within seconds, they were sharing a searing kiss - but only this time, the blonde wasn’t running anywhere._

_The brunette found herself backed up against a wall next to the fireplace, and as their tongues duelled, she slid her hands underneath the heavy material of the saviour’s sweater to touch the soft, pale skin of her back. The sheriff breathlessly drew away from their kiss, to trail her lips down the column of the other woman’s throat and the mayor was powerless to do anything but writhe under the blonde’s ministrations._

_“Emma,” Regina groaned and buried her head in the crook of the saviour’s neck, when a bare thigh was pushed in between her own; applying pressure to where former queen sought it most. She rocked her hips, brazenly pushing her naked heat against the toned muscle of the other woman’s thigh, as the straps of her silk nightgown were pushed gently from her shoulders; the thin material floated downwards, to pool where their legs met, exposing the brunette’s bare chest to her lover’s lustful gaze._

_Fisting a handful of blonde hair, the mayor pulled the saviours lips back to hers, to share another bruising kiss –_

Then quick as a flash, everything stopped; Emma disappeared, and the brunette’s feeling of intense arousal was quickly replaced with that shock and shame.

_What in the unholy hell?_

It occurred to Regina, as she started to come around, that she had in fact, fallen asleep on the couch.

She also discovered, in that moment, that she was not alone; the mayor’s eyelids fluttered open long enough to see Henry and Emma hovering over her, involved in a hushed conversation. 

“She knows it’s you,” the brunette heard Henry mutter and she clamped her eyes closed again – it appeared to Regina, that she may have just groaned Emma’s name in her sleep. 

_How, embarrassing._

“You did it Mom, you took away her nightmare.”

_Oh, so that’s what happened, is it?_

“I uh – I guess I did,” Emma practically spluttered and even through closed lids – Regina sensed the other woman’s embarrassment; the sheriff seemed to be aware that she had just turned the brunette’s terror filled nightmare, into a something approaching a wet dream. 

_Interesting._

Although the mayor should have been appalled by the violation, or at the very least, embarrassed by her sudden state of arousal, it was clear from Emma’s sudden panic, that blonde had never intended to battle the brunette’s demons with the ‘power of lust’; when it came to her new power, the saviour had the magical competency of a bookend.

_Idiot._

Truthfully, the mayor was rather tickled by the blonde’s magical mishap, so rather than chastise the other woman, she decided to have a little fun at her expense. 

“Emma,” Regina moaned breathily, stifling a smile as she imagined the panicked expression her moaning would no doubt have surfaced on the blonde’s face.

As predicted, Emma had Henry ushered out of the room and sent to bed within seconds.

_Showtime_

xXx

Emma turned with a sigh, expecting to find a slumbering woman, but was instead presented with a very much awake Regina. The brunette lay on her side on the couch, her head propped up by her hand and she wore a very smug expression on her face.

Mirthful brown eyes met confused green ones, before realisation finally dawned on the blonde.

“You,” Emma took a step further into the room, a frown on her brow. “You were fucking with me?” 

Regina threw her head back and laughed wickedly; _she does that a little too well_ , Emma thought.

“That’s so mean,” the blonde let out a short, relieved laugh and took a seat heavily next to the mayor’s feet on the couch. “You cruel, cruel woman,” the blonde shook her head and rubbed her palms over her face; she’d been so worried. “You could have traumatised our son.”

“Well, they didn’t call me evil for nothing,” the brunette made fun, as she poked at the sheriff’s hip with her big toe through the blanket. “And in my defence, Sheriff, I happen to have been enjoying your little interlude into my dream – before you so cruelly ripped it away.”

“Good dream, Madam Mayor?” Emma asked, smiling as she tilted her head to survey the mayor, but when their eyes locked, the sheriff’s expression clouded over with concern “So, you’re not mad?”

“I should be,” Regina said, as she shifted under the blanket to a seated position facing the blonde, her knees bent at her side. “But no,” she shook her head softly and her mood seemed to sober a little. “I understand that you were trying to help me,” she tilted her head to one side. “And in a roundabout way, it worked.”

“So, it appears we’ve found a use for my new power, after all,” the saviour beamed, and at Regina’s frown she continued. “Emma Swan - the purveyor of erotic dreams.”

“I never said it was erotic,” the brunette said, with a twitch of her lips. 

“You didn’t have to,” Emma retorted, quirking her eyebrow at the mayor, before settling back against the cushions.   
Regina simply hummed in response and they shared a knowing smile, before the brunette’s faltered and her gaze fell to the couch. 

“Tomorrow,” she started cautiously, and Emma felt her stomach drop at her sudden change in tone. “Once I’ve spoken to my sister about the plan, we should head to my vault; figure out a way to…restrain your new power,” she looked back up at the blonde. “At least until we know what’s happening between us, that is...” 

“Do you mean us, us, or magical us?” Emma asked, intentionally keeping her tone light. 

“Both,” Regina said, matter of fact, as she smoothed her hands over her hair; it had become unruly during her sleep. Emma noticed then, that the brunette had changed out of her work attire and into a loose tank top and yoga pants. The saviour didn’t ever recall seeing the mayor so casually dressed.

“So,” a thoughtful frown touched the blonde’s brow as she refocussed her attention and absorbed the brunette’s words. “What you’re saying is, that you think the two are connected somehow?“

“Emma, I’m not sure what’s causing this development in your abilities - but it would be naïve of us to think that the timing is purely a coincidence.”

“I first felt it when we kissed,” Emma nodded in understanding, before nibbling her lower lip thoughtfully.

“Trust me,” Regina continued. “I want nothing more than to explore what we have here – but,” she paused and licked her lips nervously. “I want us to do so with complete clarity.”

“You mean, you don’t want me in your head,” the blonde said a little defensively, the feeling of rejection starting to creep in. 

“That’s right,” Regina nodded. “But not for the reasons you might think,” she shifted again, edging a little closer to the blonde. “Emma, last time we kissed, you bolted.”

“That won’t happen again-“ the sheriff protested; had she really entered the mansion tonight with her heart on her sleeve, only to have it crushed at the first hurdle?

“Still, it happened - and I don’t blame you. Being inside each other’s heads, it’s… intense,” she paused for a beat, as if considering her next words. “And having had some time to think about it this evening, I’ve realised that we really need to take this slowly; if not for ourselves, then for Henry.”

“Henry will be fine with this,“ Emma protested.

“That maybe so,” the mayor conceded, nodding her head, once. “But it doesn’t change the fact that if this,” she signalled in the space between them “doesn’t work out – he too will end up hurt.”

“Regina,” Emma’s expression deftly communicated the disappointment and hurt that she felt at the brunette’s words. “You’re talking about it not working out, before you’ve even given us a chance.”

“You’re not listening to me,” Regina sighed frustrated and looked to the ceiling, before attempting to articulate her point once more. “I feel for you very deeply,” she explained, her eyes staring intensely into the blondes. “But right now, with the pregnancy hormones and your emotions clouding my own-“. 

“I get it,” Emma interrupted the brunette, her gaze dropping to her lap.

“Do you?” Regina dipped her head in an effort recapture the saviour’s eyes. “I’m not saying that I want this to stop. Emma, look at me,” she smiled softly when the blonde lifted her head. “Not at all. I’m just saying that we need to get this right.” 

“And what if there is no magical plug for this new ability? What if this is us? What then?”

“Then we work on a way of controlling it,” the mayor smiled sincerely. “There will be a way, Emma; new magic is always difficult to master at first.”

“You don’t have to tell me that,” the blonde grumped as she studied the brunette’s expression, looking for a sign that she wanted an out. However, all that she saw in the other woman’s gaze was affection. “You still want to do this, right?” Despite what the saviour’s eyes were telling her, she still had to know for sure; she swallowed thickly before clarifying what she truly meant. “You still want me?” 

In that moment, the blonde hated herself for sounding so damned needy; this wasn’t like her, she never did this - but the thought of having Regina walk away from her, was more terrifying a prospect than begging her to stay. 

“What?” the brunette asked, looking bewildered. “Emma, it’s taking every ounce of energy that I have to not kiss you right now,” she said sincerely. “Believe me when I say that’s all I want to do.” 

“Yeah?” Emma’s face cracked in a watery smile; she couldn’t help it and she laughed at her own ridiculous reaction. “Are you sure that’s _all_ you want to do?”

“My point is,” Regina chose to ignore the blonde’s obvious deflection. “That because we’re not touching,” she placed her hand over her own heart. “Emma, I know that these feelings I’m having for you, are my own; I absolutely want this,” she dropped her hand to the couch between them and gripped the blanket in her fist. “I want you.”

“Me too,” Emma’s grin hadn’t lessened any; despite their lack of contact, she felt elated. “Want you, I mean,” she rolled her eyes at her own inherent dorkiness. “So, it appears that now we both have clarity.” 

“Yes,” the brunette confirmed with a genuine smile and the saviour felt a soothing warmth settle over her heart. “It appears that we do,”

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Please let me know what you think :)


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Season’s greetings to those of you that celebrate at this time of year and a happy Wednesday to those of you who do not!  
> Thanks heaps to Loweze for the beta on this chapter (she’s also the super talented gal that designed the cover for this story) mwah!

Emma watched as Regina absentmindedly smoothed out the fleece blanket that lay on the couch between them. The brunette kept her gaze trained on the movement of her own hand, as an uncomfortable silence settled over them. 

The mayor had been asleep when the saviour entered the sitting room, and she and Henry had neglected to turn on any lights, in an attempt to not startle Regina awake. A single floor lamp on the opposite side of the room to the couch, was all that lit the space and it cast a warm glow onto the two women, but even in such comfortable surroundings, the silence was making the sheriff antsy.

“So…” she started cautiously, hoping to draw the mayor back into conversation; there was still so much left unsaid.

“So?” The brunette enquired, finally raising her head to look at the blonde, a slight frown tugging at her brow.

“What now?” Emma pressed, refusing to let doubt get the better of her.

“I think,” Regina dropped her gaze back to her hands. “Now…we exercise caution; at least for the short term.”

“Caution?” Emma asked, finding the brunette’s response unexpected. “Why?”

“Well, aside from the magical development between us; Gold,” the mayor offered in explanation, once again meeting the blonde’s eyes. “He’s been questioning Henry as to why we’ve been spending so much time together.”

“What’s it to him?”

“He knows that we left Storybrooke.”

“Okay,” Emma’s eyes narrowed. “Does he know why?” 

“No,” the mayor shook her head softly. 

“Well,” the blonde shrugged. “That’s good then.”

“It is,” the elder woman raised her eyebrows, “but just the fact that he has taken an interest, is cause enough for concern.” 

“Right,” Emma conceded, before cautiously enquiring, “just to be clear,” she frowned, “is it the baby you’re worried he’ll find out about, or us?”

“Truthfully?” The brunette asked and at the saviour’s nod she continued. “Both,” she said, her expression turning solemn. “I don’t wish to provide Gold with any reason to add caveats to our deal.”

“You really think he’d do that?”

“We have no idea what’s happening with our magic.” Regina shrugged a single shoulder. “He’s a master manipulator, Emma; until we fully understand your new power… the less he knows about us, the better,” the brunette explained. “And with regards to my pregnancy; need I remind you how he was able to orchestrate your life, before you were even born?”

“Well, you do have a point there,” Emma conceded with stiff smile. “Nothing’s ever simple, huh?”

“No,” Regina responded with a weak smile of her own, “but we’d only be suspicious if it was.”

“True,” the saviour chuckled wryly and without thought, reached for the brunette’s hand, only to have her swiftly pull it away.

“Emma,” Regina cautioned. “We can’t. Not when we’re alone like this, not until-“  
“I know,” the blonde said, sighing heavily and collapsing back against the couch cushions. “Sorry.” 

Although their brief conversation had done some to ease the blonde’s anxiety over the brunette’s feelings towards her, there was no denying that the ball was still very much in the other woman’s court.  
Even though Emma had initially been the one to run, it appeared that Regina was now the one exercising restraint… and apparently, the one enforcing it on them both. 

“This new power sucks,” the blonde huffed, but she knew that Regina had a point. The barrage of emotions that surged through the blonde’s system, every time she touched the brunette, wouldn’t be especially conducive to _‘taking things slowly’._

“Stop sulking, Miss Swan,” Regina said, with a hint of mirth to her tone. “We’ll figure it out.” 

“We’d better,” the blonde purposefully exaggerated her pout, which gained an exasperated eye-roll from the brunette.

“Anyway,” Regina sighed, before rising on unsteady legs. “It’s getting rather late and we’ve got a busy day ahead of us so…” she yawned, as if to make her point, and turned to gather the blanket from the couch. 

“Oh,” Emma said, attempting to hide her disappointment as she too, got to her feet, “Okay.” The blonde was little taken aback by the abrupt shift in conversation. 

“Neither of us has had much sleep over the past few nights,” Regina offered in explanation, apparently sensing the blondes discontent. “A good night’s sleep will put us in much better stead for the tasks ahead tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Emma reluctantly agreed; she did feel pretty exhausted. “So, what time do you want to start in the morning?” The blonde asked, hands shoved in her jean pockets as she watched Regina place the folded blanket over the back of the couch. “I’ve got the late shift again, so we should probably make good use of the morning – maybe over breakfast?” She pulled on her sheriff’s jacket as she headed out into the hall. “Regina?”

When she got no response, Emma stopped and turned to face the mayor; but instead of her following the saviour to the front door as expected, Regina was heading up the stairs that led to the second floor.  
Emma frowned.

“What are you doing?”

“It’s late, Emma,” the brunette responded, continuing to ascend.

“Um,” the saviour took a few steps forward, stopping at the foot of the staircase. “What?”

“It’s late,” the former queen repeated, paused and turned - staring down at the sheriff, her expression unreadable. “Let’s go to bed.”

“But you said-”

“I said that I didn’t want you in my head, Emma; not that ‘I didn’t want you in my bed’.” She attempted to clarify, but as the blonde’s frown deepened, the brunette continued with a roll of her eyes. “I’m sure we can be trusted to keep to our own sides for just one night - until we get all of this all figured out,” she raised a single eyebrow. “Unless you feel that you’ll lack the self-control?” 

“Please,” Emma scoffed, as she bounded up the stairs clumsily to join the other woman – a childlike grin spreading across her face. “I, am a pillar of self-restraint.” 

At that, the brunette’s other eyebrow rose to meet the one that was already arched.

“Alright, so maybe I’m not,” the sheriff conceded. “But I’ve already told you, I’m not a cuddly sleeper,” she held her hands up. “You’re totally safe.”  
Regina hummed sceptically as she turned and headed up the stairs. “Maybe we should take some extra precautions…”

xXx

_4 Hours later…_

Emma released a frustrated sigh; a quick glance at Regina’s bedside clock confirmed that another 40 minutes without sleep had passed. 

Sharing a bed under Regina’s _‘no unnecessary touching’_ rule, had somehow resulted in the saviour being wrapped up in bed like a damned burrito. Used to sleeping in her underwear, even in winter, Emma was finding the set of long sleeved plaid pyjamas and slipper socks a little stifling. If that wasn’t uncomfortable enough for the blonde, it appeared that Miss ‘let’s take extra precautions’ Mills, was in fact, a very enthusiastic cuddler.

_Oh, the irony._

Emma had awoken an hour ago to a dead arm; the ailment caused by a certain brunette latching onto her side like some kind of human limpet. The sheriff had successfully managed to wriggle her arm out of the way and bring it back to life, only to have Regina shift position in the process to use blonde’s chest as a pillow. 

It felt nice at first, to have the peaceful brunette snuggled into her side, however due to the plaid forcefield the saviour had been forced to wear, the novelty soon wore off. Now Emma just felt hot, and not in the sexy way.

Finally consigning herself to the fact that she wasn’t going to get anymore sleep, Emma decided that the best thing to do, would be to get up. Fearing how a pregnant Regina might react to being jostled awake, the sheriff set about carefully shifting from the brunette’s vice like grip, one limb at a time.

Ten minutes later, once Emma had made her escape, she freed herself of the sweatbox that was her pyjama top and now, dressed in just a tank top and the plaid pants, she looked down at the sleeping brunette. 

The mayor hugged the pillow that Emma had strategically placed on the bed, as a substitute for her own body, as she’d made her escape. The saviour smiled to herself as the brunette stirred, before nestling deeper into the pillow. Emma had never in a million years imagined the fiercely independent brunette to be such a cuddle bug. 

With a soft chuckle and a shake of her head, the blonde turned and quietly left the master bedroom. As she crossed the hallway, the first light of sunrise greeted her through the large arch shaped window on the staircase, but the blonde paid it no heed and quickly descended the steps in search of coffee. 

As she rounded the corner to the kitchen, for the second time in just a few hours, Henry scared the life out of her. 

“Jesus Christ, Kid!” The blonde exclaimed holding her chest and bracing herself against the kitchen doorframe; not expecting to see him sitting at the island. “Stop doing that!”

“I’m awake,” Henry, who had quite obviously been asleep on the counter, lifted his head sharply and swiped at a yellow post-it note that had attached itself to his forehead. “What time is it?” 

“It’s before noon on a Sunday,” Emma responded, as she moved past her son to start the coffee maker. “What the hell are you doing up?” 

“Haha,” the teenager responded dryly. “I’ve been up since just after six,” he said, through a huge yawn. “I’ve been trying to figure out why your new power only works on Mom.”

“Oh, yeah?” Emma’s eyebrows retreated to her hairline, as she opened a cupboard to retrieve a coffee mug. “You find anything?”

“Not a whole lot,” he said glumly and flipped a page of the storybook that lay on the table in front of him. “I may need to head over to the sorcerer’s mansion later.”

“We’ll figure it out, kid.” Emma flicked the switch on the coffee maker and moved over to join him at the island; ruffling his mussed hair on route. “It’s weird though, huh?”

“Yeah,” Henry nodded. “I mean, if you were Robin, it would make more sense,” he frowned. “Well, if Robin were magical, that is."

Emma swallowed, thickly. ”How so?” She asked, not entirely sure she wanted to hear the answer. 

“Well,” Henry picked up another old book he had on the island, this one on myths and legends, and opened it to a page he had bookmarked. “I haven’t found anything in the Enchanted Forest stories that explain it – but in a book from this world; here,” he pointed to a paragraph on folklore and shoved the book under his mother’s nose, “it talks of soul mates as being like, _mutual empaths_. It says that that if two great loves share a spiritual connection – and something more physical tethers them together - they can develop the ability to communicate telepathically.”

“Huh,” the sheriff considered Henry’s words as she took the proffered book from his hand. A heat crept up her neck to touch her cheeks as she read the paragraph before her. “But we’re not communicating telepathically,” she mused as she re-read the words. “It’s communication through touch…” 

“You’re not ‘great loves’ either,” Henry retorted grumpily, as he snatched the book back from the blonde. “I told you I didn’t find much.”

Emma blinked at him, wide eyed for a few beats; blindsided by the new information and her son’s reaction to her words. “Well,” she finally spoke, straightening on her stool. “It’s a great start,” she said encouragingly; silently thinking that their son may even be on to something. “And it’s a lot more to go on than we had before six o’clock this morning,” she smiled, tightly. “Your mom will really appreciate the effort, kid.”

“Right,” the teenager said, his tone lighter as he continued to flick through the pages of the book. “Where did you sleep last night?” He asked casually after a few moments, not looking up from the page he was reading. “The guestroom was empty when I got up, and you weren’t on the couch...”

“Oh, um,” the blonde stuttered as she slipped off her stool and swiftly moved to busy herself with retrieving milk from the refrigerator. “I stayed in with your mom – you know, just in case she had another nightmare.” 

“Good thinking,” her son concurred with a nod, and Emma relaxed slightly. 

“Did she?” 

“Did she what?”

“Have another nightmare,” her son asked, twisting to look at the saviour with an incredulous expression on his face. “Duh!”

“Oh,” Emma mentally shook herself as she poured coffee from the pot, into her mug. “No,” she turned to face her son, mug cradled between both of her hands. “She slept just like a baby.”

A _really cuddly one._

Henry smiled genuinely and nodded; seemly happy with his mother’s explanation. “That’s really great, ma.”

“Yeah,” Emma smiled back, before shifting to rest on her elbows on the island next to him. “Hey,” she nudged him with her shoulder and took a sip of her coffee. “What do you say…to helping me make your mom breakfast?”

Henry narrowed his eyes and hummed contemplatively. “Can you make French toast?”

“You got cinnamon?”

“Did you really just ask me that?” 

“Right,” the blonde nodded. “Of course, you have.”

“Can we listen to music,” Henry asked. “You know, like we used to at the loft?”

“Sure,” Emma laughed at the question. Many a morning had been spent, when Henry was younger, dancing around the kitchen to music as they made breakfast; it was tradition of theirs that had slipped since the sheriff moved in with Killian, and the blonde wasn’t entirely sure why. 

“You left your laptop here,” Henry hopped off his stool enthusiastically and grabbed his mother’s computer from and empty chair on the other side of the island. “Here,” he said as he placed it in front of the blonde and headed towards the pantry. “I’ll grab the ingredients.”

Emma smiled at her son’s eagerness and placing her coffee mug on the island, reached for her laptop. “I’ll pick us some tunes.”

xXx 

The first thing Regina smelt, was bacon. The first thing she heard, was guitar music and the first thing she felt, was incredibly nauseous.

Clambering out of the bed and rushing to the bathroom, the brunette noted that the Emma was no longer in her bed. The mayor concluded with distaste, as she wretched last night’s dinner into the toilet bowl, that the blonde was the most likely source of both the noise and smell currently assaulting her senses. 

Once the nausea had passed, the brunette flushed the toilet and reached for her toothbrush. Studying her reflection in the bathroom mirror, she wondered just how much longer the morning sickness was going to last. 

As she brushed her teeth, Regina’s thoughts drifted to her conversation with Emma the previous night; they’d certainly covered a lot of ground.

_Though still not enough,_ the brunette thought, sardonically; silently cursing her pregnancy charged libido.

As much as it was killing the brunette to refrain from touching the blonde, she did believe taking things slowly was truly was the best way forward. Emma had never had relations with a woman before and despite the saviour’s apparent eagerness to start, she had still bolted after their first kiss. Deep down, Regina wasn’t sure she was emotionally strong enough to deal with that rejection again, especially if she could actually _feel_ it happening.

After splashing water on her face and drying it off, the brunette emerged from the bathroom and almost tripped over the plaid pyjama top the saviour had worn for bed; it had just been discarded haphazardly on the floor.

_Like mother, like son._

Sighing, the mayor placed the worn garment in the clothes hamper, before donning her grey robe over her pyjamas and leaving the bedroom to join whatever chaos awaited her downstairs.

_**Welcome to the jungle we got fun and games**_

_**We got everything you want, honey - we know the names** _

_**We are the people that can find, whatever you may need** _

_**If you got the money, honey - we got your disease** _

“What’s happening in here?” The brunette asked, upon reaching the kitchen, but her voice couldn’t be heard above the noise blasting from the laptop speakers. Emma bounced around the room, using a spatula as a poor substitute for a guitar and their son, although a little more subdued, was swaying along as he chopped mushrooms on the counter. The kitchen was a complete mess.

**_In the jungle, welcome to the jungle_ **

****

****

_**Watch it bring you to your - sha na na na na knees, knees** _

**_I wanna watch you bleed_**

“Come on, Henry!” The blonde exclaimed, tapping the teenager on the head with the spatula, before returning to the frying pan and using the same utensil to flip the bacon. 

The brunette wrinkled her nose distastefully and made a move for the laptop, turning down the volume; quieting what she had deemed to be nothing more than an offensive racket. “What do you have our son listening to?” The former queen enquired tersely, turning her attention to the stunned faces in the room.

“Gun’s and Roses,” Henry broke the silence and smiled toothily. “They rock.”

“I’m sure.”

“Regina,” Emma beamed, breathlessly. “Hey.”

“Hey, yourself, sheriff,” the brunette retorted as she briskly crossed the kitchen and flipped the switch on the kettle to boil; she was hoping that maybe some ginger tea would help to settle her stomach. “Why does my kitchen look like a bomb has hit it?”

“We’re making you breakfast,” Emma continued in a chirpy manor, nudging their son playfully. Seemingly she had chosen to entirely disregard the mayor’s obvious lack of enthusiasm. “Henry here, thinks he’s too mature to sing with his mom.” 

“I’m inclined to agree with him, dear,” the brunette grumped, as she reached for the tea bags. “Tell me, are you always this exuberant in the morning?”

“Are you always this grumpy?”

The brunette simply scowled in response to the blondes slight, and dropped a teabag into a cup.

“Mom’s not a morning person,” Henry explained to Emma, in a stage whisper.

“I heard that, young man,” the mayor cautioned, focussing her attention on the kettle as it came to the boil. “I am a morning person,” she lied. “I just prefer my breakfast without a side helping of  
_wailing_ and electric guitar.”

Behind her, the room fell silent for a moment, and the brunette started to feel a little guilty; her moods were so up and down lately, she knew she was over reacting. That was however, until after a shuffle of feet, another song was selected on the laptop and the volume cranked up.

_**Loving you, isn't the right thing to do.** _

“Just, what do you think you are-?” By the time the brunette looked to the source of the noise, Emma was no longer there - and when Regina turned her attention back to her tea, she found the saviour standing right next to her. She jumped slightly. “Emma, what on earth?”

The blonde leant against the counter on her elbow, an infuriating grin on her face, as she started to sing the lyrics to the brunette.

_**How can I, ever change things that I feel?**_

“Seriously?” The mayor asked, before blanking the blonde and pouring water from the kettle into her cup. “Grow up.”  
Emma laughed as she dramatically pirouetted around the brunette, coming to lean on the counter on the other side of her. 

_**If I could, baby I'd give you my world.**_

“Miss Swan!” Regina protested, but the sheriff paid no attention.

_**How can I, when you won't take it from me?**_

Before Regina could react, Emma took her hand and in an instant, the mirth that the blonde was feeling coursed through the brunette’s system. The savour faltered, just slightly, as the brunette stubbornly tried to fight the elation, but the sheriff’s resolve was stronger and fun eventually won out.

_**You can go your own way**_

_**Go your own way** _

_**You can call it, another lonely day** _

The blonde confidently swept the brunette into her arms, pressing their bodies together as she moved them both to the music; she wrapped one arm around the mayor’s waist and with the other, she gently held her hand.

_**You can go your own way**_

_**Go your own way** _

Before long, despite her earlier mood, Regina was dancing along to the music of her own accord. As the saviour spun her around the small kitchen space, the mayor couldn’t recall ever feeling this happy, at least, not for a very long time.

_Emma makes me happy._

The saviour laughed and smiled along as if they didn’t have a care in the world; the sheriff’s genuine enjoyment of the moment, tugging at the brunette’s heart. As the song reached an instrumental interlude, the blonde dipped, and the former queen threw her head back with the movement. She laughed freely, and that’s when she experienced it; something that felt inexplicably, to Regina, a lot like love.

The brunette lifted her head sharply, her eyes connecting with the blondes, instantly doubting what she was feeling. Yet the intensity of the saviour’s gaze was palpable, and the emotion that Regina now felt wrapping itself around her darkened heart, was also reflected in the saviour’s eyes.

_Love._

“Emma, I,” Regina rasped, swallowing thickly; her gaze dropping to the other woman’s lips, as the blonde moved to close the space between them.

“Um…Mom’s?” 

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading  
> Another Cliffhanger – sorry! I’m know, I’m such a bastard…


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Notes:   
> Happy New Year Guys!   
> A huge thanks to Loweze for her speedy beta work on this chapter – you’re an absolute star!  
> Disclaimer in chapter 1

**Chapter 22**

“Um…Mom’s?” 

To Emma, it felt like time had stopped.

_Henry..._

As the fog began to clear and the blonde watched realisation slowly dawning on Regina’s face, she felt her stomach drop; so immersed had they been in their emotional cocoon, that they’d completely forgotten their son had been watching them - _the whole time._  
Still wrapped in each other’s arms and a little woozy from their exchange, both women simultaneously snapped their heads towards the teenager - and he just stared back at them, utterly dumfounded.

“Henry!” Regina was the first to react verbally and Emma felt sheer panic coming off the other woman in droves; it was instantly sobering. The brunette pulled herself away from the blonde at lightning speed – so fast that she threw herself into the kitchen counter, cursing under her breath as her hip connected with the granite worktop. 

Emma moved to silence the music, as Regina attempted to explain. 

“This…” the mayor shook her head and waved an arm in the space between herself and the sheriff, for lack of suitable words to explain. “That…it…wasn’t what it looked like.” The former queen stuttered, a little sounded breathless and her skin was flushed. “It was just-“ 

“Just what?” Henry folded his arms over his chest and fixed his mothers with a glare that Emma instantly recognised as being undoubtedly inherited purely from Regina. “Dancing?” He asked, disbelievingly. “Because it looked to me, like Ma’ was about to kiss you.”

Even though the blonde knew there was no way to dispute what their son had seen clearly etched on both of their faces - her stomach still tensed at the accusation. Her worried gaze drifted over his expression, searching for any sign of anger or even disgust – but all she glimpsed in his hazel eyes, was surprise. 

“Oh please,” Regina scoffed, forced incredulity twisting her features. As she spoke, her hands found purchase against the counter on either side of her body, in a move that Emma assumed was an attempt to appear casual. 

“I know what I saw, Mom,” Henry countered, dropping his hands to his sides and rounding the counter to stand in front of Regina. “And you looked like you wanted Ma’ to kiss you.”

“Henry,” the brunette chuckled dismissively – keeping up her threadbare façade and shaking her head. “That, is just preposterous…“   
Emma flinched; the saviour knew the former queen was lying, but that didn’t mean that her words didn’t sting a bit. 

_Why IS she being so defensive?_

Whilst Regina skilfully avoided eye contact with the rooms’ other occupants and dropped her hands to fuss with the cord on her robe, Emma kept her gaze on their son. At the brunette’s spoken denial of what had just happened, the blonde saw the flash of hurt passing over his young features – right before he completely exploded.

“That’s just bullshit!” He yelled.

“Henry Daniel Mills!“ The brunette’s head snapped up and she glared at their son – her embarrassment forgotten, in the face his insolence.

“Henry, come on,” Emma cautioned, taking a step towards him - equally surprised by his reaction; as rare as it was, she’d heard him curse before, but never directed at either of his parents. “Don’t speak to your mom like that.” 

“Why not?” He asked incredulously, his hands balled into fists at his side. “It’s true – I can’t believe she’s lying to me…again.”

_Shit. He’s right._

The saviour recalled clearly how, just last week - with Regina’s failed abortion attempt – they had lied to him. He’d been incredibly hurt - and now they were doing it again. 

_He has a right to know._

The blonde cautioned a look at Regina; she understood why that the brunette was embarrassed by the situation – _but to this degree?_ The usually self-assured mayor, was in full panic mode and considering her (mostly) unruffled approach to the shift in their relationship so far, her overreaction to Henry this morning, was entirely unexpected. 

_Something is up…_

She needed to speak to Regina alone – but first, she’d have to appease Henry.

“Henry,“ Emma started, taking another step closer to their son. “Why don’t we-“

In that instant, the abrupt sound of the doorbell ringing in the hall interrupted their conversation and all three of them bore the same startled expression; it was barely past 8 on a Sunday morning…

_Who the hell could that be?_

“I’ll get it,” Emma said with a frustrated sigh. Upon taking in Regina’s still rattled appearance, the blonde decided the other woman was probably not up to exchanging pleasantries; the last thing they needed right now, was for the wound-up former queen to fireball an unsuspecting sales rep. “I’ll just get rid of whoever it is,” she muttered as she turned and left the kitchen. “Wait here.”

_And then we can sit down and sort this whole thing out,_ she added in her head as she trudged the hallway to the front door – slightly miffed that she ( _of all people_ ) now had to be the voice of reason; it was unfamiliar territory for her.

_If anyone has the right to freak about people finding out, it’s me, the sheriff mused. I’m the one with newly discovered… gayness (bi-ness? Regina-ness? Whatever...)_

The blonde reached the door and taking a deep breath to ready herself for turning away their early morning visitor, she swung it open.

_Okay, now I’m freaking out!_

“Mom?” Emma gasped, upon finding Snow White standing on the doorstep, with baby Neil in his pushchair. 

“Emma?” Snow looked equally as shocked. “What are you doing here?” A smile twitched at her mother’s lips. “And…in pyjamas?”

“What?” Emma glanced down at her attire. “Oh, yeah,” she stuttered over her words slightly. “I…I stayed over.” She answered as casually as she could and stepped aside to allow her family entry to the mansion. “We were up late discussing the plan and then we got tired so-“

“Snow?” Regina rushed to join them in the hallway, tailed by Henry; saving Emma from waffling herself into a corner. “What are you doing here so early?” She asked, concern lacing her tone. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing’s wrong,” Snow explained. “Your father’s at the station and I’ve been up for hours with Neil,” the teacher smiled down affectionately at her sleeping son. “We were just passing by for a morning stroll and thought we’d drop by to see how you were doing.”

“You couldn’t just have called?” The mayor’s concern quickly dissolved into irritation. 

“Well, good morning to you too, Regina,” Snow ribbed the older woman, cheerily as she and Emma ascended the short flight of stairs to join the others in the hallway – leaving Neil sleeping in his pushchair by the door. “I can see you’re still a _‘morning person’.”_

Emma cringed; Snow White _really_ couldn’t read a room. 

“Oh really?” Regina asked, crossing her arms over her chest – her expression much like Henry’s had been in the kitchen moments earlier. “And I suppose your early morning visit has nothing at all to do with the fact that your daughter’s cruiser has been parked outside my house over night?” 

“What?” Snow asked, aghast at the accusation. “Of course not,” the younger brunette shrugged. “But, it is a lovely coincidence,” she smiled sweetly; an expression which only worked to darken the one on Regina’s face. 

The blonde watched the heated exchange between the two women, convinced that she was missing something important; her super-power lie detector was going off like a strobe light whenever Snow spoke. Why, in God’s name, would the police cruiser being parked outside Regina’s house, be of any interest to her mother? 

“Well, as you can see, Snow; I’m fine,” the mayor said tersely before marching past them and heading for the stairs to the second floor. “Now, if you’ll all excuse me, I have to go and ready myself to speak with my sister.”

“You’re not joining us for breakfast?” Emma asked, following the brunette for a few paces - desperation evident in her tone; the last thing she wanted was to be left alone with their suspicious son and her nosey mother. 

“Mom?” Henry called out to the brunette, coming to stand at Emma’s side.

Regina paused on the stairs and stared down at the blonde much like she had the night before, but this time, there was an uneasiness to her expression – a tenseness around her eyes. The brunette’s anxious gaze drifted between Henry and Snow and then back to Emma, before she finally responded. “I’m afraid I’ve lost my appetite,” she said flatly, before turning and retreating to the second floor. 

“Great,” Henry muttered. “Real mature-“ 

“That’s enough,” Emma snapped, turning to face her son. “Your mom’s under a lot of stress right now,” she said, softening her tone and placing her hand on his shoulder. “Just let me talk to her, alright?”

“But, Ma-“

“Look, we’ll explain everything to you later,” she gave his shoulder an encouraging squeeze. “I promise.”

“Okay,” he sighed, nodding glumly and turning to walk through the dining room. “I’ll be in the kitchen.”

The sheriff watched him leave, guilt tugging at her insides - before she turned back to look longingly up the staircase, wondering just what the hell had gotten into Regina. 

“Is this a bad time?” Snow asked, interrupting her daughter’s musings - a sheepish expression coating her features.

“Real observant, Mom,” the blonde rolled her eyes as she turned to face her mother. “It’s just been a rough morning, that’s all.”

“I’m sorry,” the teacher said, sincerely. “Do you want us to leave?” She asked, her eyes suddenly looking remarkably doe like. 

_Yes._

“No,” Emma sighed, defeated. “Just…stay down here with Henry,” she turned to head upstairs. “I’ll go talk to Regina.” 

As the blonde reluctantly climbed the staircase after the seething mayor, her stomach audibly growled and she ground to a halt mid-flight. 

“Um, Mom,” Emma said, turning to look back down at Snow, who still stood in the hallway.

“Yes, sweetie?”

“If I’m gone for longer than 20 minutes, send food.” 

xXx

Regina slammed her door closed and moved to sit down heavily on her bed; she was absolutely shaken to the core. 

_What the hell just happened?_

The morning was a complete blur; she’d gone from the dizzying heights of utter elation, to what felt to the brunette now, like rock bottom – and all within a matter of minutes. As if the feeling she’d received loud and clear from Emma, wasn’t overwhelming enough – their son now knew something was afoot. 

_Stupid, careless, completely idiotic – the mayor berated herself._

She brought her trembling hands up to her face, before running her fingers through her hair to link them at the base of her skull. Her anger slowly   
gave way to guilt; she’d lied to Henry – again. 

Regina had never seen him so angry…so hurt.

_What the hell is wrong with me?_

Unfortunately, the brunette had little time to continue contemplating her actions - before Emma came charging in through the bedroom door.

“Regina, what the hell?”

The former queen dropped her hands to her sides and glared up angrily at the other woman for the intrusion; just like that, her defences were back up. 

“I’d appreciate it if you knocked on my bedroom door before you entered; one night in my bed does not entitle you to just barge in whenever you feel like it.”

“Oh, cut the crap,” Emma was clearly in no mood for the brunette’s deflection. “What the hell’s gotten in to you?”

“What’s gotten into me?” Regina got to her feet and placed her hands on her hips; still not ready to shoulder any blame. “Did you hear the way our son just spoke to me?”

“I did,” Emma nodded, mirroring the mayor’s stance. “And can you blame him? Regina, he just saw his mom’s almost kiss.”

“And whose fault is that?” Regina snapped as she stalked towards the saviour, nostrils flaring. “I said that we should keep touching to a minimum until we figured everything out.“

“I was having a bit of fun, Regina – Jesus – why is this bothering you so much?” The blonde asked, her tone dismissive. “It’s not as if Henry’s not going to find out about us, eventually. “

“Well, that’s easy for you to say.” 

“What the hell does that mean?”

“What I mean is, _Emma_ ,” Regina leant further into the blonde’s personal space. “That when everybody finds out about us, you, yet again, are going to look like the valiant saviour… “ she turned to walk away. “And I, like the cold-hearted bitch they already believe me to be.” 

“Who? Regina…what?” Confusion tugged at the blonde’s brow. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m pregnant with Robin’s baby!” The brunette yelled, spinning back to face the blonde – who, in turn took a step backwards at the ferocity of the other woman’s actions. “He’s not been dead for two months,” Regina’s voice dropped to a whimper, her eyes welling up with emotion. “And I’m already moving on.“

“Oh my God, Regina,” understanding smoothed out the saviours’ brow and she took a step towards the other woman. “Is that what all this is about?”

“I don’t know,” Regina said helplessly, as she moved to sit back on the mattress; feeling entirely deflated. “Everyone in this town already hates me.”

“You know that’s not true,” a small smile twitched at the blonde’s lips as she moved to sit next to the brunette. 

Regina knew that Emma was thinking _‘pregnancy hormones’_ , and to a certain extent, she may have been right…but that wasn’t the sum of it.

“Most of them barely tolerate me at best,” she muttered sulkily. “Robin was loved; what are people going to think of me?”

“Since when did you give a damn what people think?”

“I don’t, not really,” Regina frowned. “Not usually, anyway,” she conceded with a soft nod, looking down at her lap. “But I do care about you,” she bought her gaze back up to meet Emma’s. “I care about Henry and about what people might say that will affect you both.”

“Henry grew up with the Evil Queen as his mommy,” Emma said with a smile and nudged the mayor’s shoulder. “I’m sure he’s heard it all before.”

“I know,” Regina groaned and sniffed. “I’m being ridiculous.”

“Regina,” Emma spoke frankly. “Do you feel guilty? Is that where all of this is coming from?”

“A little,” the brunette admitted - but at the blondes arched eyebrow she conceded. “Alright a lot,” she shrugged softly. “I really did love Robin,” she shook her head. “I’m carrying his child, but I barely think of him at all - and when I do it’s usually about the baby. What kind of person does that make me?”

“It makes you human, Regina,” Emma said reassuringly as she rested back on her hands. “I mean, I barely think about Killian anymore, but I don’t think that makes me a bad person,” she reasoned. “I loved him too, but honestly, I’m beginning to think that this thing between us has always been there.”

“What are you saying?” The brunette shifted to face the blonde.

“I’m starting to think we’ve been on this path, since before we even met them.”

“Like fate?” The former queen asked, sceptically. “You really are Snow White’s daughter.” 

“Or destiny,” Emma shrugged, ignoring the brunette’s swipe at her mother. “Call it what you want - but the more I look back and think about when we first met-”

“I hated you back then,” Regina interrupted, with a scoff.

“But isn’t that how all great romances start? Princes Leia and Han Solo, Buffy and Spike-“

“Elizabeth Bennet and Mr Darcy?”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Emma smirked, and Regina rolled her eyes. “But what I’m saying is, that who’s to say that even if Robin and Hook were still alive, we wouldn’t have ended up here eventually anyway?”

“You really think so?” A soft frown appeared on the brunette’s brow as she contemplated Emma’s words. Being born of a land of fairy-tales, their union of course, could be fated… _but given my history…_

“You felt what I felt in the kitchen, right?” Emma pressed on.

“I did,” Regina nodded, her cheeks colouring a little.

“That kind of…passion…” the sheriff’s statement tailed off, as both women reflected on the emotion they’d felt coursing through their veins, when Emma had held Regina in her arms. 

“Think about it,” the blonde eventually continued, apparently sensing that the brunette required further convincing. “It even sounds like a fairy-tale.”

“The Evil Queen and her Valiant Saviour?” A smile twitched on the mayor’s lips.

“Sounds epic,” the blonde sat up straight and twisted to face the brunette. “I’d read it.”

“You mean, you wouldn’t wait for the movie?” Regina teased, her eyebrow arched. 

“Ha Ha,” the saviour deadpanned. “So, are we good?” 

“We’re good,” the mayor nodded once. “But I do fear that with my pregnancy hormones, this won’t be the last of my… _‘meltdowns’.”_

“And I’ll be there for every one of them,” Emma smirked. “Mainly, because I’ll most likely be the cause.”

“That does sound likely,” Regina smiled back, before her mirth slowly faded; concern now twisting her expression. “What are we going to do about Henry?”

“We tell him the truth,” Emma said simply. “He has a right to know; and you should know, he may have already come across something in one of his books to explain this magical connection between us. He just doesn’t realise it yet.”

“He has?”

“I’ll let him explain,” Emma got to her feet and held a hand out to Regina. “Shall we?”

“Okay,” the former queen sighed and allowed the blonde to pull her to her feet, enjoying the feeling of comfort that washed over her as their hands briefly met. “Let’s go speak to him.”

“It may be slightly more complicated than that,” Emma winced as they moved towards the door to leave the bedroom.

“Oh?” The brunette paused and turned back to face the blonde “How so?”

“My mother’s still here.”

“Oh, is that all?” The brunette moved towards the door and exited the bedroom to the landing, a knowing smile appearing on her lips. “Something tells me your mother won’t be too shocked to hear about the development in our relationship.”

“What?” Emma followed, closely behind. “Why?” 

xXx

“Oh my gosh, this is so exciting!” Snow White squealed and clapped her hands in front of her face like an excitable child. “Honestly,” she shook her head and clasped her hands together; looking every bit the traditional Disney princess. “It’s just so perfect.” 

“It is?” Emma asked, a little confused by her mother’s reaction. Considering their history with Regina, her parents were the two people that the blonde thought would instantly take umbrage to their new relationship. If the blonde were honest with herself, it all felt a little anticlimactic.

“Of course,” Snow leant forward on her stool at the kitchen island, and rubbed her daughters arm affectionately. “I’ve seen how you two look at each   
other; it’s just so obvious that you belong together.”

“Right,” the frown remained in place on the saviour’s brow.

“Your mother actually told me, that I should tell you how I felt,” Regina offered in explanation.

“You did?” Emma looked at her mother, shocked.

“I think she realised, even before we did,” Regina said, sparing the teacher a rare appraising smile. 

“What can I say? I know love,” Snow practically sang, smiling broadly as she picked up her tea cup and took a sip. “I’m just so happy for you both.”

“Henry?” Regina asked, turning her attention to their son, who had remained silent throughout the whole exchange. She reached out and placed her hand over his arm, where it rested on the counter. “Is there anything you’d like to say?”

“I don’t know. It’s…” he moved his arm from underneath his mother’s hand and wiped his palms on his pyjama bottoms. “It’s just a lot to take in, you know?”

“I know,” Regina conceded. “And I’m sorry you found out the way you did. We never intended for that to be the way…”

“I didn’t even know you were gay,” he exclaimed; cutting his mother off mid-sentence.

_You’re not the only one, kid._ Emma mused.

“Well, Henry,” the brunette glanced at the blonde quickly, before cautiously continuing. “Back in the Enchanted Forest, labels like that didn’t exist. People loved who they loved – and that was that.”

“But then, why are there no gay stories on the storybook? Like, why is it just princes and princesses, husbands and wives?”

“That’s a good question, actually.” Regina contemplated her son’s words for a moment, before Snow offered an explanation.

“I would say that may have been the choice of the author, Henry,” the teacher explained, placing her teacup back on the counter. “And as you well know, there is more than one storybook.”

“That’s true,” the teenager nodded, looking thoughtful as he absorbed his grandmothers’ words. “Well,” he finally said as he reached for his orange juice and took a sip. “This love story, is definitely going in my storybook.”

“Henry,” Regina looked a little startled. “Do you really mean that?”

“Of course,” Henry said with a smile, his lips partially hidden behind his drinking glass. “It sounds like an epic tale.”

“That’s exactly what I said!” Emma cut in, as Regina moved off her stool to pull their son into a tight a hug.

“I love you,” she mumbled into his hair as she placed a kiss on his head. “I’m so sorry I lied to you.”

“You’re choking me,” Henry laughed as the brunette pulled back, her hand still resting on her shoulder. “I love you guys too,” he placed his juice back on the counter. “But let’s just keep the lovey-dovey stuff to a minimum, alright,” he joked. “I don’t want to be scarred for life.”

“But scarring you for life, is what I live for,” Emma retorted, leaning over and ruffling his hair, before reaching for the plate of bacon on the counter. “So, can we finally eat this now?” She asked, looking up at Regina, where she still stood next to their son – a watery smile on her face. “I’m   
starving to death here.”

“Yes, of course” the brunette said, her smile widening, as she took her seat back at the island; only now, fully appreciating how lucky she really was. “We can eat.”

As the family happily ate the breakfast that Emma and Henry had prepared, Regina found her mind wondering to the remaining task ahead; she had to tell her sister about the baby.

_I wonder if telling Zelena about my pregnancy, will go equally as smoothly_? The mayor mused optimistically, before mentally kicking herself   
for being so utterly ridiculous. 

This was Zelena; an overdramatic reaction, was therefore inevitable. 

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! As usual, I’d love to hear your thoughts.   
> That’s the last sickly sentimental chapter you’ll be getting from me for a while…  
> Next step – Zelena!
> 
> PS I forgot to mention in the last chapter, that the songs were Welcome to the Jungle by Guns and Roses and Go Your Own Way by Fleetwood Mac…I’m not sure how to add it into a chapter that I’ve already posted, so here it is!


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to Ren & V for stepping in to do the last-minute beta work on this chapter – I really appreciate your help! I’ll send you more mini-cheddars and English mustard as payment!

“I don’t bloody believe this!” Zelena exclaimed, as she pushed herself up from the table and stalked away from Regina - who sat patiently awaiting the predicted onslaught. The former queen had arrived at her sisters’ farmhouse for tea about twenty minutes ago, and since then, all she’d listened to were tales of the other woman’s woes: baby Robin keeping her awake, the terrible phone reception at the farmhouse, and something about someone called Ikea. 

_None of which, for a magical person such as Zelena, were real problems._

It was then, that the mayor had decided to drop her own, truly problematic bombshell. 

“Are you being serious?” the redhead whipped back around; the fabric of her A-line, bottle-green dress, swooshing at her legs, as she turned to fix her sister with a vexed glare. 

“This is not something I’d joke about,“ Regina said, matter of fact; keeping her head held high and her features expressionless. “I’m about 2 months-“ 

“Two months?” Zelena screeched, an incredulous look on her face. “Please don’t tell me you got pregnant in the _underworld_?” 

“I don’t see why that matters,” the stony expression on the mayor’s face faltered somewhat at the memory; she hid her blush by dropping her gaze to tug at the cuffs of her leather jacket, straightening out the creases. 

“You did, didn’t you?” The witch answered her own question with a scoff; folding her arms over her chest. “I didn’t know that was even possible.”

“Neither did I” Regina agreed. Had it not already been confirmed, she too would have thought it was impossible, to conceive life in a world meant for the dead.

“Some hero you are,” the redhead muttered under her breath, but Regina caught it – her head snapping back up, as she recoiled slightly in her seat 

“Excuse me?” The former queen scowled. “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“You were supposed to be on some heroic mission. I mean, when did you even find the time?” As Regina began to respond - a snappy retort on the tip of her tongue - the redhead cut back in. “No. There’s no need to answer that,” she said, holding up a hand and curling her top lip distastefully. “With Robin, it always was over rather quickly, wasn’t it?”

“How dare you?” The mayor quickly got to her feet, outraged at her sister’s audacity; Robin was dead and still the witch insulted him. “How dare you speak of him that way? “ 

Zelena being Zelena however, completely ignored the brunette’s angry reaction and continued her own tirade, as if her sister hadn’t even spoken. 

“Oh, God!” The wicked witch whined, as she sat back down heavily on a dining-room chair – her forearm coming to rest dramatically over her forehead. “You know what we are, don’t you?” The redhead asked rhetorically; eyeing her sister from under the arm still resting at her brow. “We’re hillbillies.”

“We’re what?” The mayor frowned. Thrown for a loop by the other woman’s bizarre statement, the brunettes confusion temporarily stifled her anger.

“Hill folk,” the witch said, casually - as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. She sat up a little straighter and dropped her hands to rest in her lap. “People that live in an isolated community and have such things as _‘sister-cousins’_ ,” she elaborated. “I saw a documentary on Netflix once.”

“Zelena,” Regina folded her arms over her chest. “I hardly think we’re-“

“Oh, come on sis,” the redhead rolled her eyes, slapping her palms down on to the wooden surface of the table in front of her. “Our children are going to be half-siblings. If the genepool in this town gets any bloody smaller, we’ll be able to host our own travelling freak-show.”

Regina truly didn’t have a response to that - not that it mattered, because Zelena was far from done.

“You know,” she pointed an accusatory finger at the brunette across the table. “This is just typical of you.” 

“I’m sorry?”

“I finally got the _one thing_ that you couldn’t have,“ she got to her feet. “And now look,” she signalled to her sister’s stomach. “You are having the exact same thing; if that’s not jealousy, I don’t know what is.”

“Oh no,” Regina shook her head disbelievingly. “You don’t get to be high and mighty here; you deceived Robin to get pregnant,” the brunette stepped forwards and squared up to her sister. “You know, Zelena, contrary to what you think, not everything revolves around you.”

“I know,” the redhead placed her hands on her hips and raised her head haughtily; looking down on the brunette. “Because apparently, it revolves around you.”

The mayor chuckled sardonically and took a step back, placing her hands on her own hips; mirroring the redhead’s stance. “Do you really think I’d put myself through all of this, just to spite you?” 

“Maybe,” the redhead spat.

“No, Zelena – because _that’s_ something _you_ would do,” Regina invaded her sisters personal space again. “Oh wait,” she sneered and turned her head in the direction of her niece, who despite their heated exchange, was asleep in her cot. “You already did.”

“You leave her out of this,” Zelena responded through gritted teeth. 

“No, you leave her out of this.” Regina snapped her focus back to the other woman. “This has nothing to do with my niece or what you did to conceive her. The man I loved is dead, Zelena,” the brunette paused for a beat, taking in the redhead’s steely expression, before she turned and stepped away. “If it wasn’t for the underworld messing with my powers, I wouldn’t even be pregnant,” she explained, her tone less aggressive. Once the mayor had placed some distance between them, she turned back to face her sister. “You know, I actually came here to ask for your help.“

“With what?”

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” the brunette shook her head; her disappointment with her sister’s selfish reaction, evident in her tone. “Now, what was it you said at Robin’s wake?” Regina tilted her head thoughtfully to one side, as she started to slowly pace the wooden floorboards of the kitchen. “Oh, that was it; that I needed somebody who _understood_ what I was going through.”

“That’s right,” the redhead concurred, cautiously.

“Well, we both know, that you used to watch my life from Oz - which makes you the one person in the whole of Storybrooke, that knows exactly what I went through with my previous pregnancies.”  
Zelena’s unfeeling expression faltered, remorse now starting to creep into her gaze as Regina stopped pacing and stood directly in front of her.

“And here you are, proving yet again that blood isn’t thicker than water.” She shook her head in dismay. “You know, I really thought we were finally past all of this - but clearly you’re still the same green-eyed _monster_ , that you always were.”

“Regina, I’m sorry, I-“ The redhead moved to close the gap between them and reached out to her sister; self-reproach now etched solidly into her features.

“Save it,” Regina said, her words dripping with contempt, “sis.” 

And with a flick of her wrists, the brunette disappeared in a plume of purple smoke; leaving Zelena alone with her sleeping daughter and her guilt.

xXx

Emma sat hunched over a large, dusty magic book on the couch in Regina’s vault – which was exactly where the brunette had left her.

_“I’m going to talk to my sister; while I’m gone, do NOT touch ANYTHING but that book,”_ the mayor had warned over her shoulder, as she’d headed towards the exit. _“On second thought,”_ she’d turned back sharply at the foot of the staircase and pointed a finger at the blonde. _“Don’t even move.”_

The saviour recounted the moment in her head, rolling her eyes and impersonating the mayor under her breath; did Regina really think that she’d be stupid enough to mess with magic she didn’t understand… _Again?_

Emma sighed loudly and flopped back against the cushions, lolling her head onto the back of the couch and staring up at the arched, stone ceiling. The sheriff knew that they had to find a plug for her new power soon but…

“God, this is boring!” she moaned aloud, to the empty room. 

The saviour was the first to admit that research wasn’t really her thing; Regina and Henry had that part down. Emma was the muscle - the action guy.

_Actually…Regina does both…._

“Humph,” the blonde hummed thoughtfully, as she lifted her head from the couch and glared down at the book in her lap – as if it were to blame for the whole research situation. 

The reading material that Regina had left her to work on, was in a foreign language; to the blonde, it just looked like a series of shapes and squiggles. It was pretty scripture and all - the type she might have had something poetic tattooed on her lower back with, in her early twenties. Of course, the ever-resourceful mayor had left behind a translator sheet for her to use - however picking through every single spell, one letter at time - _is taking fucking ages._

As she looked scornfully at the hand-written translator sheet that lay on the couch next to her, Emma had a sneaking suspicion that her current situation might in fact be a stealthy attempt on the brunette’s part, to get her to study magic.

The saviour sighed again, this time getting to her feet; despite what the mayor had said about not moving, the sheriff really needed to stretch her legs.

_Maybe I can cast some-kind-of magical translator spell?_ The blonde pondered as she paced the vault; _it would certainly make things quicker…_

_But then, what if I accidently poof away the spell we need? Or I set fire to a book? Or even worse - the vault?_

Emma stopped her pacing and frowned. _Maybe this is exactly why Regina told me not to move or touch anything…_

Shaking her head to dislodge images of the vault in flames – the sheriff resided herself to the fact that she would indeed be solving this magical puzzle, without any magical help.

_But, all is not lost!_

The blonde fished her cell-phone out from her jeans back pocket.

Their son had left the vault shortly before Regina, to conduct some of his own research at the sorcerer’s mansion. Emma hoped that the teenager had made some headway, that could point her in the right direction; after all, his last find about _mutual empaths_ , had provided them with a great starting point. 

“Hey Ma,” Henry said, sounding a little preoccupied; the sheriff could hear the noise of pages being turned in the background. 

“Hey,” Emma said, a little too cheerily for the moment. “How’s it going? Did you find anything else yet?” 

“I’ve only been here half an hour, Ma,” he said, his tone slightly irritated. “I’m good – but I’m not that good.”

“What do you mean half an hour? You left here ages…” the saviour looked down at her wrist watch. “Forty minutes ago? Damn; is that all it’s been?”

Her son sighed into the phone. “I take it you’re struggling to translate the magic book?”

“Um,” Emma looked back at the discarded book and translator; she hadn’t even made a note of what page she was on, before she’d tossed it aside. “It’s fine,” she lied. “It’s going great, in fact.”

“Sure, it is.” Henry retorted; entirely unconvinced. “You’ve given up already, haven’t you?”

Emma rolled her eyes; their son was far too intuitive for his own good sometimes. “Maybe…” she groaned, pushing a hand through her hair and starting to pace the small space again. “This whole ‘one word at a time’ thing is just taking too long. “

“Well,” Henry chuckled, evidently finding some enjoyment in his mother’s discomfort. “Perhaps if you’d studied the foundations of magic when Mom was offering to teach you-“

“Oh, I see how it is,” Emma joked back, her tone intentionally sulky. “Take her side.” 

“Seriously, Ma,” he laughed again. “It’s easy; just remember, the words are written from left to right – but the page runs from right to left. You start at the bottom right-hand-side of the page and work your way up to the top left.”

“Um…what?” Emma came to a standstill by the tall table containing Regina’s potion pots. “And why didn’t your mom tell me this?” 

“I think you’ll find, she did.”

“When?”

“When she was going through that old wooden trunk thing; looking for more candles.”

“Oh,” the saviour drew out her response slowly, as her gaze drifted to the dusty old trunk that Henry spoke of. Despite being alone, the blonde felt herself blushing at the memory of Regina being bent over, routing through it.

At the time, upon seeing the other woman’s shapely behind in the air, swathed in her tight, deep purple dress - Emma’s mind had pretty much short circuited. The mayor could have been sharing the coming weeks winning lottery numbers – and her words still wouldn’t have been absorbed by the blonde. 

_So, technically, it’s not really my fault. Right?_

“Ma!” Henry raised his voice to regain his mother’s attention; signifying to the saviour that she’d lost focus again.

_Seriously?_

“Sorry,” she blinked away the memory. “Yeah?”

“I said, do you need me to come back and go through the book with you?” The teenager asked, his growing impatience evident in his tone. “Mom seemed pretty confident that you’d find something in there.”

“No, it’s okay,” Emma sighed, suddenly feeling a little pathetic. “I’ve got this,” she said with more confidence. “Just let me know if you find anything else that might help to speed things up a bit?”

“Of course,” he said, sounding relieved that his mother wasn’t expecting him to drop what he was doing, and rush to her aid. “So, catch you later at Granny’s for burgers?”

“Sounds great,” Emma responded with a smile that had already faded by the time she’d hit the button to end the call. 

_Shit._

The blonde looked over her shoulder mournfully, to the sheet of paper that contained the few notes that she had managed to make; notes that had apparently been made from the wrong end of the book entirely. 

_Come on Swan; you can do this._

With newly mustered enthusiasm, the sheriff simultaneously turned to head back to the couch and moved to put her phone in her back pocket; in doing so however, the clumsy blonde accidently knocked a vial of liquid something-or-other off the table behind her.

_Uh-Oh_

With the reflexes of a cat (albeit a slow one), the blonde spun around to catch the bottle – but instead, it landed on her boot, before rolling across the room.

“Shit, that was close!” Emma cursed, a little thankful that she’d been able to prevent the glass container from smashing into a million pieces and releasing some sort of a magical plague.

The sheriff moved quickly, ducking down as she chased the runaway vial across the floor; she bent to retrieve it from under a red velvet tablecloth, when suddenly... 

“Not that I don’t appreciate the view, Sheriff; but what _are_ you doing?” 

“Ow!” Emma jumped, upon hearing Regina’s voice; hitting her head on the underside of the table. Awkwardly, she backed out from her crawlspace, hiding the vial up her jacket sleeve as she turned to look sheepishly up at the brunette.

“I wasn’t touching anything, that’s for sure!” Emma said, her guilt showing as she stood up straight and took in the mayor’s appearance. Regina’s arms were folded over her chest and she bore a sceptical expression on her face – _so nothing new there then_ – but she did look a bit more frazzled than usual.

“Wait; you just poofed in,” Emma observed. “I thought you took the Mercedes out to the farmhouse?”

“I did,” Regina said with a frustrated sigh, her shoulders slumping forward as she dropped her hands to her side. “I’m just,” she balled her hands into fists and moved to sit down heavily on the old wooden trunk. “Too angry to drive right now.”

“Angry? Why?” Emma followed the brunette, moving to crouch in front of where she sat. “What the hell happened?”

“Just, _Zelena_ ,” the brunette scoffed, rolling her eyes. “I’m such an idiot for thinking she could actually change.”

“What did she do this time?”

“Nothing new,” Regina’s arms moved to hug her own waist. “She’s just so incredibly self-centred; I don’t think she’ll ever truly grasp the concept of family.”

Emma felt a sinking feeling in her stomach at the brunette’s words; it evoked memories from a lifetime of trying to fit in to readymade families – to meet their expectations. 

“Well,” Emma responded, cautiously – conscious that what she now had to say, might hit a nerve with the already irate brunette. “Although I appreciate you didn’t have the best upbringing – and I’m not making excuses for her or anything…”

Regina looked down at the blonde and narrowed her eyes. “Go on,” she finally said, in a way that did nothing to calm the blonde’s anxiety.

“Zelena was orphaned,” Emma said, with a shrug. “And I happen to know a little something about that,” she continued with a sad smile.

Regina frowned, looking a little bewildered, before she eventually responded -placing her hand over the blondes at her knee. “Emma, you are nothing like my sister.”

With the reassurance that flooded the saviour’s system from their contact, the blonde knew the brunette’s words to be true.

“Regina, I don’t know what Zelena said to upset you – but fitting into a new family is hard; it can make a person defensive.”

“Now, there’s an understatement,” the mayor said solemnly, her gaze trained on where their joined hands rested upon her knee.

“Did you want me to maybe talk to her?” Emma asked, genuinely. “You know,” a sympathetic smile twitched at her lips, “orphan to orphan?” 

“I think it’s a little too late for that…” The saviour felt sadness coming off the other woman in droves, before it suddenly gave way to irritation.

“Oh, for God’s sake!” The brunette snapped, as she got to her feet and turned away from the blonde to face her mirror.

“What?” Emma asked, as she too got to her feet and approached Regina - placing her hand on the small of the brunette’s back. “What did I do?” She asked, completely puzzled.

“Incoming,” was all Regina had time to say, before a green cloud of smoke appeared – bringing with it Zelena and baby Robin.

“Regina I…“ The wicked witch paused as she took in the scene before her. “I’m sorry,” she said, with an air of annoyance. “Am I interrupting something?”  
Emma quickly dropped the hand she still had on Regina’s back, to her side and stepped away - just as the former queen turned on her sister. 

“Zelena, you are not welcome here,” the brunette spoke through gritted teeth. “Please leave.”

“But, I came to apologise,” the witch said, adjusting baby Robin in her arms as the infant started to whimper. 

“It’s too late for that.”

“But it can’t be,” the redhead moved towards where the other women, were standing by the trunk. 

“Do you even know what you’re apologising for?” The mayor asked, incredulously.

“Of course, I do,” Zelena raised her chin defiantly.

“Oh, really?” Regina sneered. “Okay, then,” she crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m all ears.”

“What?”

“I want to tell me what you’re sorry for,” the brunette explained. “And then, I may just forgive you.”

“So, you want me to list-“

“Today, Zelena,” Regina snapped, interrupting the redhead midsentence.

“Alright, fine.” The witch held up her spare hand in a gesture of surrender. “Okay, ” she took a deep breath. “I’m sorry saying that you aren’t a hero and that your town is inbred.”

Emma’s eyes widened at the accusation – but then slowly narrowed as she quietly considered her own family tree…

“And?” Regina pressed.

“For…” Zelena bit her lip before continuing. “Basically, suggesting that Robin was rubbish in bed?”

_Oh my God!_ The sheriff’s shock was evident in her expression. _That was vicious (and if she were honest - a little amusing)._ Apparently, even attacking dead boyfriends wasn’t out of   
bounds when the Mill’s sisters fought. The saviour noted that Regina’s jaw had tightened at her sister speaking ill of Robin - but to the untrained eye, her demeanour would have appeared impassive. 

“And?” The brunette urged; her tone indicating to Emma that the slight which had caused the most offense, was still to be apologised for. 

“And,” the redhead sighed, looking thoroughly defeated. “For insinuating that you had gotten pregnant, just to spite me-”

“You did _what?”_ This time, Emma stepped forward; aghast. She balled her hands in fists at her side; angry with herself for having tried to defend the redhead, just moments ago.

“You didn’t insinuate it, Zelena; you actually said it,” Regina retorted; her voice now laden with hurt. It was clear to the blonde, that this was the barb that had caused the brunette to snap. 

“I know – and I’m so sorry for saying it,” the witch at least sounded sincere; her eyes pleading with the brunette. “I did see what you went through from Oz, and I know you would never willingly put yourself through all of that again-”

“Then why say it?” Regina finally snapped – her raised voice breaking with emotion. “I tried to abort the baby, Zelena!”

“You,” the redhead recoiled, like she had just been slapped in the face. “You what?” 

Emma wasn’t sure what had shocked Zelena more; what Regina just revealed she’d tried to do, or her uncharacteristic emotional outburst.

“Just last week,” the brunette said. “I tried a potion to abort the pregnancy, for fear of going through that again – and you” she stumbled over her words, as she bit back a sob. “You just stood there and you accused me of-“

“Oh my God, Regina!” Zelena suddenly rushed forward, rounding the trunk and after shoving baby Robin into the stunned saviour’s arms - she pulled her sister into a tight embrace.

“Um…okay…” the blonde held on to the baby awkwardly and stepped to the side to give the other women more room.

“I’m so sorry,” the redhead soothed the brunette; tears now staining her own cheeks. “You know me; defend first, think later,” the witch admitted with a self-deprecating chuckle. “It was just a bit of a shock really, that’s all.”

“I know,” Regina mumbled into the taller woman’s shoulder. “It’s a lot to take in, I,” the brunette stopped short - apparently catching herself, before she pulled away. “Oh, for God’s sake,” she sniffed and wiped under her eyes. “I hate being so emotional all of the damn time,” she griped; a humourless laugh escaping her lips as she turned to look in the mirror and check her mascara. 

“Just wait until you feel like you’re the size of a whale, carrying two bowling balls around in your bra,” Zelena quipped. 

“Right,” the mayor muttered, staring at her own refection; but to the other women, her expression in the mirror said everything.

_If my pregnancy ever gets that far…_

“Regina,” the redhead tentatively beckoned, and the brunette slowly turned back around to face her sister. “At the farmhouse, you said that you needed my help with something.”

“That’s right,” it was Emma that spoke now; seizing the opportunity to hand back the squirming infant and moving to stand next to Regina in a show solidarity. “We do.”

“We?” The witch asked; puzzled, as she shushed a whimpering Robin, by rocking the baby in her arms. “You both need my help?”

“Yes,” Regina confirmed. Having now composed herself, she looked over at the saviour with a watery smile - and to the blonde’s surprise, reached for her hand. The brunette linked their fingers together   
tightly, seemingly needing to draw on some of Emma’s confidence in their plan. “We do.”

“Oh,” Zelena frowned at their hand holding and looked as if she might say something – until she evidently thought better of it. “Okay,” she eventually said with a sharp nod. “Then tell me what it is that I can do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing Zelena, is so much fun!
> 
> Does it seem fair to you that Regina is utilising their mutual empathy when she needs a little confidence boost – but then scalding Emma when she uses it to have a little fun? 
> 
> As always, I love to hear your comments/ thoughts!


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: Thanks heaps to Loweze for the beta work on this chapter – it was very much appreciated.

Chapter 24

Emma stretched her neck from side to side and tapped a highlighter pen against the notepad, which balanced precariously on her bent knee. The blonde was curled into one corner of the couch with a dusty book, whilst Regina perched daintily in the other, scribbling down notes from an ancient looking scroll.

It had been two hours since Zelena left them alone in the vault, and there was plenty more that Emma would rather be doing in Regina’s company, than paperwork... But alas; their magical predicament wasn’t going to solve itself. At least, Regina said, several times, that she didn’t think it would.

Emma however, remained optimistic.

They had made _some_ headway in the last hour; the former queen had come across an incantation that would allow them to put a temporary bind in place. Unfortunately, however, that particular spell would also stifle the saviour’s other powers too, which for obvious reasons, was something neither woman was comfortable with. 

And so, they kept looking.

At least their plan to journey into the past was proving more fruitful; they now had both Maleficent and Zelena on board. Despite the wicked witch’s initial overreaction to Regina’s pregnancy, she now seemed keen to be involved. The redhead had even gone as far as to suggest that she may be able to figure out a method of communication between the past and the future; and although the mayor was sceptical about the idea (her exact words being _‘that’s impossible; what an utterly ridiculous waste of time_ ’), she had agreed to let her sister, at least, try. 

_Two powerful witches down; one to go._

Admittedly, the sheriff reasoned, Ursula was always going to be the toughest sell. There was no familial bond for the mayor to use, no historical kinship to call upon. Frankly, all Emma had ever witnessed between Regina and the sea witch, was blatant animosity. 

Ursula wasn’t just going to help Regina out of the kindness of her heart _(or hearts? She has tentacles like an octopus, maybe she has three hearts too?)_ , so hopefully, the brunette had something up her sleeve to use as a bargaining chip.

The saviour sighed and adjusted herself on the couch. She shifted so her back was to the armrest and her legs were crossed in the lotus position; this way she could continue to do research, and steal glances at the other woman in the process.

It seemed silly really, for a grown woman to be behaving like some kind of lovesick teenager, but ever since they’d acknowledged their feelings for each other, Emma hadn’t been able to keep her eyes off the brunette.

Maybe, the sheriff pondered sulkily, it had something to do with the on and off _‘no touching rule’_ , which appeared to only come into play when it suited the mayor. Truthfully, it was getting a bit too one-sided for the blondes liking. 

Despite this realisation however, the sheriff couldn’t help the smug smile that twitched at her lips, as she ran her gaze over the flawless profile of the brunette before her. If Emma were really being honest with herself, stealing secret glances at the mayor wasn’t an entirely new past-time, but at least now, she had an excuse if she got caught. 

“I can feel you watching me,” Regina said, as if on cue and without the need to lift her head from the scroll to confirm her statement.

“Sorry,” Emma mumbled her apology and dropped her gaze back to her own book, but she couldn’t concentrate.

The two women hadn’t spoken much, since the wicked witch had left them in the vault. Even though Regina had accepted her sister’s apology, it was obvious to the blonde that the brunette’s heart still bore the scars of Zelena’s words.

This time, Emma didn’t need to touch the other woman to know she was hurting.

_In fact, if she’d just let me touch her, I could take that pain away._

It seemed odd to the blonde that they were spending so much time trying to stifle a power, which just that afternoon, they had used with good reason. 

_How can that be a bad thing?_

“Emma,” Regina sighed and this time she did look up at the blonde; irritation written all over her features.

“What?” Emma asked, wide-eyed. “I wasn’t even looking at you.”

“I can hear you thinking.”

“Is that like, an advancement of our powers now, or just a turn of phrase?” The sheriff joked.

“I’m being serious, Emma,” the brunette gestured towards the blonde’s notepad with her pen. “You haven’t written anything down for at least fifteen minutes. I know you hate research, but I’m not doing this all by myself.”

“Well,” Emma shut the book that lay on her legs and rested back against the arm rest, folding her arms over her chest. “Maybe I just don’t see the point.”

“Oh, for goodness sake!” The brunette responded irritably, twisting in her seat to face the blonde. “Emma, we’ve been through this and we agreed-”

“Just hear me out,” the saviour interrupted, dropping her right foot off the seat to rest on the floor and laying her left arm across the back of the couch. “Despite what you say, you can’t be dead against this power, Regina. You even used it today. You took my hand when you needed a little boost,” she shrugged, “and I guess, I just don’t see any harm in that.” 

“That was simply a gesture of solidarity,” the former queen argued, raising her chin defiantly. “I would’ve gotten a boost from holding your hand, regardless of your new power.”

Emma looked sceptical.

“Okay, fine,” Regina rolled her eyes exasperatedly, as she tossed her pen and the scroll onto the couch between them. “So, it has its uses,” she conceded; “but, it’s still equally dangerous.”

“Dangerous how?”

“Well for one, we don’t know what it is yet, or why it’s happening,” the brunette explained. “For all we know, it could be progressive. It could all be part of some elaborate plan to, I don’t know, drive us mad, perhaps?”

“A plan by who?” Emma asked, her expression incredulous. “Regina, until recently, we’d barely even touched! Unless this mystery orchestrator of yours can see into the future, then sabotage seems a little far-fetched.”

“The Dark One has powers of foresight.”

“Been there; done that! It’s not that clear-cut,” the blonde said, flippantly. “Besides, you said it yourself: Gold’s been quizzing Henry on what’s going on between us, so for once, he seems more clueless than we are.” 

“Emma…”

“Regina,” the saviour shifted again, leaning further into the space between them. “The few times we’ve just let my power do its thing, has anything bad _actually_ happened?” 

“Well, no,” the brunette reluctantly agreed. “But, maybe that’s _because_ we’ve restrained from overuse.”

The blonde sighed, both hands dropping heavily into her own lap. Frustrated at getting nowhere, she decided to change tact. “You can’t tell me that you’ve not thought about how good it will be, to just   
_know_ what the other person wants,” Emma raised her eyebrows, as if to emphasise her point. “You know, to understand what the other person _needs_.”

“You’re talking about sex,” Regina said flatly; it wasn’t a question. “I’ll admit,” she tilted her head to one side, thoughtfully; her gaze slowly drifting over the saviour’s lean frame. “That concept is enticing,” she shook her head softly, as if to clear the images from her mind. 

“But Emma, so is the idea of discovering where and how you like to be touched, for myself.” 

An amused smile briefly appeared on the mayor’s lips, at the blonde’s blushing reaction to her words. “Wouldn’t it be better for us to take our time and learn these things together?”

“Well,” the saviour’s cheeks reddened further, and she dropped her gaze to her lap. “When you put it like that…”

“Emma,” Regina placed her hand gently on the blonde’s knee, and the saviour’s eyes rose to meet hers. “I’m just concerned about what might happen, if we come to rely on your new power,” she shrugged softly. “And then one day it just disappears.”

“I never thought of that,” the blonde admitted; the brunette was making a compelling argument. 

_That would suck._

“No,” Regina said decisively, with a firm shake of her head. “We resume our research,” she picked up the scroll and pen, and moved to rest them on the opposite arm of the couch; looking poised to write.

“Okay,” Emma reluctantly agreed, simultaneously twisting and swinging her other leg from the couch, so that both feet now rested on the floor. “I’ll admit, you do have a point.”

“I always do, dear,” the brunette responded, haughtily. “I hasten to add, however,” she continued, her eyes focussed on the scroll, “that if we happen to come across a spell that allows us to switch your power on and off at our own leisure,” she turned her head to smile coquettishly over at the blonde. “Well, then _I_ won’t see any harm in that, either.”

xXx

At the same time, on the other side of Storybrooke, Henry was equally knee-deep in research. He sat at a large table, in the library at the sorcerer’s mansion; several storybooks lay open and spread out, haphazardly, before him. 

His headphones were on and his music was blasting; he had hoped his collection of 80’s tunes, might dull the host of less-than-productive thoughts, which were currently plaguing his teenage mind.

Just two weeks ago, Henry Mills was the only child of two single mothers, which although unorthodox, was working well for everyone involved. Now, in just over a week, he’d discovered that not only was he going to be a big brother, but unrelated to that fact, his two, single moms, were now apparently into each other. 

To say he was blindsided, didn’t even cover it.

The teenager cringed inwardly whenever he thought of the stick he was bound to receive, from his best-bud Nicholas. His friend had already taken to calling Henry’s mothers _‘Sheriff McMILF’_ and _‘MILFY McMayor’_ ; no doubt he was going to have a field-day with the latest development. 

_That asshole’s gonna make my life hell._

Before Henry could dwell too much on how painful his remaining years at high school were going to be, the large double doors to the library suddenly opened, to reveal the wicked witch of the west, pushing a baby stroller.

“Aunt Zelena?” Henry sounded surprised, as he removed his headphones and eyed the redheaded woman curiously.

“Henry!” His aunt looked equally as shocked to see him. “I didn’t think anybody else would be here.”

“Well, I am,” he narrowed his eyes, still perplexed as to why his infamous aunt, with a passion for Netflix, would be in any library, let alone the sorcerer’s one. “The question is, why are _you_ here?” 

“To read,” she said with a casual shrug, parking the stroller and removing her green leather gloves; placing them on the table next to Henry’s books. “Isn’t that why people here generally visit library?”

“There’s a library in Storybrooke,” the teenager offered; his tone laced with suspicion at his aunt’s evasiveness. “Why not just go there?” 

“Well, it’s nice to see you too, dear nephew,” Zelena snarked as she moved to run fingers along the spines of a shelf of books directly in front of Henry. “If you must know, I’m here to do some research.” 

She plucked a book from the shelf and held it to her chest, as she turned back around to face the teenager. “I went to the library in town, but with Gold’s bookworm being under a sleeping curse, that place is in total disarray.”

“Research into what?”

“Are you always this inquisitive,” the redhead arched an eye brown in irritation. “For your information, I’m actually here to help your mummy’s’-”

“They told you?” Henry interrupted, aghast. He thought his mothers had wanted to keep what was happening between them a secret, at least for the short term. Next to Mr Gold, he’d have thought Zelena would’ve been the last person they’d trust, with the development in their relationship.

“Of course they did,” the witch responded, sniffing superciliously as she took a seat at the table opposite her nephew. “I am family, after all.”

“Right,” the teenager frowned. “Sorry,” he lied. Family or not, his Aunt Zelena was as slippery as an eel. “Of course.”

“Look,” she said, somewhat impatiently; opening the book to what appeared to be a random page, before raising her eyes to meet his. “I understand why you don’t trust me, Henry,” she placated, apparently picking up on the lack of sincerity in his apology. “My interactions with you haven’t always been…entirely above board.”

“You tried to kill me!” He yelled at her across the table, clearly annoyed at her playing down of the matter.

“But, I didn’t succeed!” 

“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?”

“A bit?” She asked sheepishly, before rolling her eyes and continuing. “Oh, bloody hell. Look, it appears I’m on a role this morning with apologies; so here’s yours: Henry I’m sorry that I tried to kill you. Okay?”

Henry raised his eyebrows; he wasn’t exactly sure how he should react. What he did know however, was that an apology coming from the wicked witch, regardless of how backhanded it was, was certainly uncharacteristic; Zelena never took the blame for anything. 

“And I promise I will never do it again.” When the teenager said nothing, the witch continued; “Unless of course, we somehow happen to become mortal enemies in the future. Then all cards are back on the table; you understand of course?”

Henry contemplated her words for a few beats and couldn’t help the smirk that touched his lips at her ridiculous lack of tact.

“Fine,” he finally agreed with a nod. 

“Good,” Zelena smiled and nodded in turn, before leafing through the pages of book that she’d selected from the shelf. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got some research to do.”

“Okay,” Henry’s smiled broadened as he realised what book she had chosen to read. “Be my guest.” He waved his arm towards the table and watched with amusement as the redhead’s face contorted in confusion.

A few moments passed, before he took pity on her.

“Um, Aunt Zelena?”

“Yes, Henry?” she looked up at him, a deep scowl on her brow.

“That book’s written in Welsh.”

“Oh, thank God,” the witch said, sounding relieved, as she slammed the book closed. “I thought I’d suffered a stroke!”

xXx

Having dangled a carrot in front of the saviour, Regina was shocked by the level of research it had yielded. 

Just agreeing to the possibility of allowing Emma to use her new power in bed, had spurred the blonde into a researching frenzy. Now, looking at the copious notes that the sheriff had made, Regina wondered if part of that motivation had stemmed from Emma being nervous about their ‘first time’. 

As keen as the blonde seemed to be to move things to the next level, there was a nervous energy surrounding her that, to the brunette, was telling. Emma liked to tackle things head on, to face her fears, guns blazing, and Regina was beginning to think that the saviour saw her new power as a means to do just that. 

Based on how the saviour had reacted to their first kiss, and her confession that she had never laid with a woman, the mayor couldn’t help but think that the saviour might still be hoping to make use her new power in bed, or at least have it on reserve to bolster her confidence.

_Performance anxiety, perhaps?_

Regina understood. She thought back to her first time with a woman; her first time with Maleficent. Her situation was entirely different back then. For a start, the former queen’s nervousness surrounding her sexual inexperience, was non-gender specific. When she’d met Mal, all Regina knew of sex, was what her mother had taught her about how to please the king. And in all the time that she’d been married to Leopold, he was still so in love with his dead wife, that he had barely even touched her.

Maleficent was understanding of her inexperience; she was gentle, and she slowly opened the brunette’s eyes to pleasurable things that, in her naivety, she hadn’t even known about her own body.   
Emma was different however; she had experience. Miss Swan was no blushing virgin and Regina had no doubt that the blonde’s apparent anxiety over the matter, was entirely unnecessary. Still, the brunette mused, it wouldn’t hurt to take the lead on the matter; to take charge before Emma’s own over-eagerness led to them to an awkward encounter, or knowing the clumsy sheriff, an embarrassing injury.

“So, will it work?” The saviour asked, reading over Regina’s shoulder, where she perched elegantly on the trunk. “Did I find something useful?”

The former queen hummed contemplatively, as she cast her gaze over the book that Emma had taken notes from; it certainly seemed promising. 

“It’s a temporary fix,” the brunette said cautiously, glancing over her shoulder at the blonde. 

“That’s good, right?” Emma asked, rounding the trunk to stand in front of the mayor. “You said that it’d be good to be able to turn it on and off.”

“I did,” the brunette concurred, crossing her wrists over the book in her lap and looking up at the saviour, “but to hold this spell in place; it will take an enormous amount of concentration.”

“So?” Emma shrugged.

“From you,” Regina arched a single eyebrow.

“Oh,” the blonde said, deflating slightly. 

“Quite,” the brunette teased with a smirk, as she scooted to one side allowing Emma space to join her on the trunk. “Take a seat.”

The saviour gingerly sat down next to the mayor and they both shifted inwards, so their knees were touching. 

“Now,” the brunette slid the book over onto the blonde’s lap. “This spell, not only has to be cast by the purveyor of the power that needs to be stifled, but, it needs to be consciously held in place too.”

“You mean, I’ve got to, like, consciously maintain it?” Emma asked, accepting the book and looking down at the pages with a frown.

“That’s right,” the mayor smiled softly, secretly enjoying finally getting to teach the stubborn sheriff some more magic.

“I’ve got to keep it in my head, even while I’m doing other things?” Emma raised her head to look at the brunette, her expression one of utter bewilderment.

“It takes practice, but it’s possible,” the mayor bobbed her head from side to side. “I’ve practiced spells of a similar ilk, when conjuring a magical disguise,” she explained. “I had to learn to hold the image   
of what I wished to portray in my mind, throughout my interactions. I knew the second I lost focus, my true-identity would be revealed.”

“Sounds stressful.”

“At times it was,” Regina agreed, sombrely, “but it served as a handy way to evade capture, on many an occasion.”

The blonde’s frown deepened, her eyes searching the brunette’s, and for a moment, Regina thought she was going to ask for details, but apparently, she then thought better of it. 

“So,” Emma said, eventually, dropping her focus back to the book. “I just need to read this out loud, then keep the thought that _‘my power is blocked’_ in my head, and it should stay that way?”

“If it helps, you could try chanting something in your mind like… I don’t know: _‘power blocked_ ’.”

“Power blocked?” The blonde asked with an amused smile.

Regina rolled her eyes, dismissively. “It’ll help to keep you focussed.”

“Alright,” Emma said, sitting up a little straighter and taking a centring breath. “Power blocked,” she nodded once, signalling her readiness to continue. “Do I read this bit?” She pointed to translated verse.

“Yes, that’s right; three times.” Regina confirmed. “The words are pronounced phonetically.”

As Emma clumsily read the incantation aloud, Regina watched concentration settling over the other woman’s features. 

The mayor couldn’t recall ever allowing herself to look so openly at the blonde, at least not for such a length of time. A heat settled over her chest at the realisation that now she could do so, unabashed.   
Her curious gaze danced across elegant cheekbones, lightly dusted with fading freckles, across the finest of lines surrounding the other woman’s eyes, before finally dropping to the saviour’s lips… which she now realised, were mouthing her name.

“Earth to Regina?”

“Hmm?” The mayor looked up sharply, to be met with amused, green eyes. “Sorry,” she shook her head. “You’re done?”

“Um, are you?” Emma asked, arching an eyebrow, her smile widening; deftly communicating that the brunette had just been caught mid-ogle.

“For now,” Regina shrugged a single shoulder nonchalantly, and it may have been convincing if it weren’t for the fresh glow in her cheeks. 

“So, are you ready to put the spell to the test?” She asked casually, hoping to move the conversation forwards. 

“What _do_ you propose, Madame Mayor?” Emma asked teasingly, her other eyebrow joining the arched one in a salacious waggle.

“Just, give me your hand,” the former queen snapped, holding her own palm out, face up. “We’ll see just how cocky you are then, Miss Swan.”

“Okay,” Emma sighed, rolling her shoulders and hovering her palm above Regina’s. “Here goes nothing; power blocked, power blocked…” as the blonde muttered the mantra under her breath, she slowly closed the gap between their hands.

And nothing happened.

“I did it!” The blonde exclaimed, squeezing the brunette’s hand and looking thoroughly proud of herself. “I can’t believe it worked.”

“Beginners luck,” Regina muttered, as she strained to feel for any semblance of the blonde’s power in her own veins. There was none; it appeared that the spell had actually worked.

“Beginners luck, my ass.” Emma poked back, a smug smile on her lips. “Admit it: you didn’t think I could do it.”

“I’ll admit, that considering your past magical endeavours, I thought it would take you a little longer to master, but-“

“Oh, ye of little faith,” the saviour interrupted, shaking her head, mockingly. “Seriously, Regina, you really shouldn’t be so quick to doubt-“

Having heard quite enough from the self-satisfied sheriff, the brunette decided to test the blonde’s powers of concentration by upping the challenge. 

_Really, how else am I going to put it to the test?_

With a quick flick of her wrist, she magicked her own, plum coloured dress to pool at her waist; leaving her topless, save for a rather revealing, black lace bra.

“Uh…” Emma’s eyes widened and for once, she seemed at a loss for words.

“You were saying something?” Regina asked, a sideways smirk on her lips as she felt the blonde’s fingers twitch under her hand. 

Emma licked her lips, her struggle evident in her expression as her eyes mapped the brunette’s exposed décolletage and lace encased breasts. “Power blocked, power blocked, power blocked, power blocked.” 

“Very good, dear,” the brunette grinned predatorily, before pulling the book from the saviour’s lap and launching herself forward to capture the startled blonde’s lips.

The very second that Regina moved to straddle Emma’s hips however, she felt a surge of power. The saviour’s concentration had clearly been completely obliterated and the magical floodgates were open. 

The brunette knew she should be disappointed, but instead found herself feeling smug and aroused in equal measure. 

_We really shouldn’t…_

But she truly couldn’t help herself. 

Ignoring her subconscious in favour of sating her desire, Regina looped her arms around Emma’s neck and drew her in for another kiss. It was heated; tongues and teeth and just as hungry as the first kiss they’d ever shared. 

_We have to stop!_

The mayor arched her back and rocked her hips against the blondes - seeking more contact as Emma dropped her mouth to kiss and nip at the brunette’s exposed throat.

_This is happening…_

When Emma shifted her hands to palm the brunette’s breasts through the thin fabric of her bra, Regina knew that they were both now past the point of no return.

“Emma,” in that moment, Regina was so consumed by her arousal, so overwhelmed by the draw of the saviour’s new power - that she failed to sense that they were about to have company.

xXx

Snow White had thought the biggest shock of her day, would be finding a message from Ariel on her door mat.

Boy, was she wrong.

“Oh my God!” The teacher yelled, as she rounded the bottom of the stairs to Regina’s vault, only to catch her daughter and the former queen, in a very compromising position. She immediately turned her back on the scene and bought a hand up to cover her face, mortified. “My eyes!”

“Mom!” From behind her, Snow heard the shock in her daughter’s voice and what she assumed was the sound of the two women scrambling free of each other. “Don’t you knock?!”

“I thought you guys were… just doing… research… I-” Snow stuttered clumsily over her words.

“We were!” Emma retorted defensively.

“On what?” The teacher asked, incredulously; “the Kamasutra?” 

“Was there something we can help you with, Snow?” Regina asked, her voice the very semblance of calm; in fact, she didn’t sound phased by the situation in the slightest. 

“Yes,” Snow said, taking a deep breath as she cautiously turned back to face the other women, her face screwed up at fear of what she might see. “I came here to show you something.”   
Emma, for her part, looked entirely humiliated by their situation; but at least she was still fully dressed. Regina on the other hand…

“Well?” The mayor asked, impatience evident in her tone and her hands on her hips. 

“Regina,” Snow whined, quickly averting her eyes to the ceiling. “I’m not talking to you when you’re dressed like that.”

“For goodness sake, Snow, stop being such a prude.” Regina sniped. “I’m wearing a bra.”

“Barely!” Snow exclaimed, wondering just what practical use a scrap of material, so scant, could possibly have.

“They’re just breasts!” The older woman countered.

“But they’re _your_ br-” Snow stopped herself and sighed heavily; fighting the urge to stamp her foot. “Could you just cover them up, please?”

“Fine,” Regina huffed.

The teacher could practically hear the other brunette roll her eyes, before she felt the prickle of magic in the air.

“You can look now,” the mayor scowled at the younger women when their eyes met, her arms crossed over her now concealed chest. “I assume you’ll think twice about entering a room unannounced from now on?”

The teacher wondered then, for a second, if Regina had in fact felt her arrive and let her walk in on them anyway; just to teach her a lesson. 

“Did you know I was here?” Snow asked the former queen, accusatorily. “Did you just let me walk in here and see that?”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Snow.” 

“Can we just forget about it, please?” Emma groaned from the other side of the room. “God,” she rubbed her hands over her face. “It’s like the awkward teenage experience I never had.” 

Regina simply smirked at the blondes suffering, but Snow’s expression softened at her daughter’s words. The teacher was unsure as to whether she should be concerned or not, at the warming sense of family she felt, from still being able to embarrass her grown daughter in this way. 

“What’s that?” It was the mayor that decided to move the conversation forward, apparently noticing the package that the teacher held tightly in her left hand. “Is that what you wanted to show us?”

“Yes,” Snow nodded, stepping further into the vault and opening the brown paper parcel she had received that morning. “It was on my doorstep when we returned from lunch at Granny’s,” she said pulling a pink conch shell from the packaging and placing it in Regina’s outstretch hand. “I dropped Neil off with your father,” she nodded to Emma, “and came here as soon as I could.”

“What is it?” The blonde asked curiously, coming to stand next to Regina.

“It’s a message,” the mayor said thoughtfully, turning the shell over in her hands; eyeing it warily. 

“It’s from Ursula,” Snow concurred. “Regina, she’s agreed to help, but she says she wants something in return.”

“I feared as much,” the mayor scoffed, her fingers gripping at the conch, like she would, when crushing a heart. “There was no way that overdressed sea toad was going to help me, simply out of what kindness remains in her heart.” She rose her stony gaze to meet Snow’s, wavering one; “What does she want?”

“She wants something of Cora’s,” the teacher swallowed, her eyes darting guilty between the two women at the mere mention of the traitorous woman’s name; whom she, herself, had killed. 

“Regina,” Snow pressed on cautiously; “Ursula wants your mother’s spell book.”

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Henry thinks Zelena knows about his mom’s…what could possibly go wrong there? Haha!  
> Apologies to anyone from Wales for Zelena’s reaction to trying to read your language! I needed a language that uses the same alphabet as English, but that doesn’t really look like any other main European language structurally.  
> As always, I’d really love to hear from you. If you could be kind enough to leave a review for my efforts (even a single word comment on a guest review), it would make me super happy and motivate me to write more!  
> Thanks again for reading!


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I’m late.   
> To make up for it, this chapter is a little longer than usual.   
> It’s Zelena heavy too, which was fun to write; I just thought ‘what’s the most inappropriate thing somebody might say right now’ – and then I wrote it!  
> Thanks heaps to Miss Kerrie for the beta! Hope you enjoyed your payment of pasta and wine haha!

**Chapter 25**

Emma watched the colour slowly draining from Regina’s face. She noticed the tightening of the brunette’s jaw and the flash of uncertainty that passed behind her brown eyes, before the mayoral mask fell into place. 

“Well,” the former queen raised her chin haughtily and handed the conch shell back to Snow. “You can tell that sea bitch to go to hell.” With that, the brunette strode past the other women, heading towards the exit for the vault.

“Regina, wait!” Emma called after her, taking a few steps forward; a sinking feeling forming in her stomach.

_She’s not thinking straight._

Surely, they’d come too far to fall at this hurdle.

“What?” The mayor stopped abruptly at the bottom of the stairs and spun back around to confront the blonde. “You think I should just give in to her ridiculous demands?”

“Woah, that’s not what I said,” Emma raised her hands attempting to placate the angry brunette; a little jarred by how the mood had so suddenly changed between them. “But, don’t you think we should at least talk about it?”

A humourless laugh fell from Regina’s lips. 

“There’s nothing to talk about,” she argued.

“Regina, aren’t you even the slightest bit curious as to why Ursula would want Cora’s spell book?” Snow asked, concern causing a deep line to form between her eyebrows. “It can’t be for any good reason, that’s for sure.” 

“Oh please,” the mayor rolled her eyes. “Ursula doesn’t intend to do anything with that book.” 

“How do you know?” Snow asked. 

“Mother’s spells; they’re bound with blood magic,” Regina offered in explanation, folding her arms over her chest. “Only Zelena and myself can wield them.”

“And you think Ursula knows this?” Emma asked, as she took a step closer to the brunette.

“Oh, I’d stake my life on it.” Regina said, curling her top lip in distaste – a move which caused the blonde to frown.

It was no secret that the former queen and Ursula weren’t the best of friends, but despite that, any interactions between the two women that the sheriff had been privy to, were at the very least, civil. The contempt that Emma was now seeing on Regina’s face however, far exceeded a general dislike; if the sea witch had been in the room with them at that very moment, the saviour had no doubt she’d have been filleted and fried within a heartbeat.

_I’m missing something here…_

“Then, I don’t understand,” Snow’s face was equally as twisted with confusion. “If she has no intention of using it, then why-?“   
“Because it belonged to Cora,” Emma interrupted the teacher; the penny had finally dropped, and her green eyes shifted to settle on the mayor. “She wants it _because_ it belonged to somebody you loved?” 

As Regina nodded her head in silent confirmation, Snow White continued to play catch up. 

“So, Ursula only wants Cora’s spell book for its sentimental value?” Snow’s frown deepened as far as her muscles would allow. “Why?” 

“Because she can,” Regina answered, her voice entirely devoid of emotion.

“She’d really do that?” Snow’s tone conveyed how appalling she found the concept. “Just to hurt you?”

“It’s not about my feelings, Snow,” Regina corrected the teacher; her irritation with the younger woman blatant in her expression. “It’s a power-play; she’s testing me. She’s-”

“Being a bitch,” Emma surmised.

Snow raised her eyebrows at her daughter’s slight, before reluctantly tilting her head in agreement. 

Regina simply scoffed.

“Not so long ago, I might have done the exact same thing,” the mayor brushed a hand over her abdomen, remorse settling across her features. 

“Guys, we’re getting off track here,” Emma warned. 

“It’s just,” Regina sighed, completely ignoring the blonde’s protestations. “I should have seen something like this coming,” she berated herself, her hands coming to rest on her hips. 

“What difference would that have made?” Emma asked, incredulity heightening her tone. The blonde knew that foresight wouldn’t have made one bit of a difference, and she wasn’t about to let Regina wallow in self-reproach. 

“The fact that you didn’t see it coming, just shows just how much you’ve changed,” Snow cut in, a sickly-sweet smile on her lips. “You don’t think like a villain anymore; that’s a _good_ thing Regina.” 

“Is it?” The former queen sneered at the very notion, fixing the teacher with an icy glare. “Or does it just make me weak?”

“Guys, stop!” Emma snapped; there was no sense in dwelling on the past something which both Regina and her mother often fell afoul of. “None of this is helping,” she placed her hands on her own hips, mirroring the mayor’s stance. “We all knew that Ursula was going to be the toughest nut to crack,” she sighed, softening her tone. “So, let’s just figure out how to deal with her, shall we?”

At the blonde’s castigation Snow at least had the decency to look a little sheepish, whereas the former queen’s posture, remained defiant.   
Emma truly understood Regina’s reluctance to give up her family heirloom. Having not grown up with many things to call her own, the blonde appreciated how much ‘a thing’ could mean to a person - her yellow bug was testament to that fact. 

It occurred to Emma however, as she took in Regina’s petulant expression that the driving force behind the brunette’s outright declination, this might not be simple sentimentality. The sheriff hated herself a little for suspecting it, but she had an inkling that stubborn pride may also be partly to blame. 

“Regina,” Emma started, but when the brunette’s vexed stare settled upon her, she _almost_ lost her nerve. “Do you have the book here?” 

“Why the hell should that matter?” Regina scowled.

“Well,” the blonde pressed on cautiously; clearing her throat, which felt suddenly dry. “If Ursula can’t cause any damage with the book, maybe we could-“ 

“Just hand it over?” Regina snapped, her tone scathing. “Not a chance.” She practically snarled. “Ursula’s not getting her scaly tentacles anywhere near that book.” 

“Regina,” Emma sighed exasperatedly dropping her hands to her sides. “Can’t we just talk-“ 

“No.” 

“You really won’t even consider-“ 

“No,” the mayor said with a firm shake of her head. 

“But, it’s your _baby_ we’re talking about!” Emma exclaimed; the brunette’s refusal to even listen to what she had to say, finally hitting a nerve. 

“Don’t you think I know that!” The former queen yelled back; her hurt at Emma’s words barely concealed, as the brunette’s steely expression evaporated before the blonde’s eyes. “The answer is no, Emma!” 

The ferociousness with which Regina said her name, hit the blonde like a tonne of bricks and she felt as if all the air had been pushed from her lungs. Regret coiled in her gut and she gaped at the mayor for a full three seconds, before her mouth finally caught up with her brain – but by then it was too late. 

“Regina, I’m sorry,” the sheriff called after the brunette’s retreating form; she was already heading further into the vault. “I didn’t mean-” 

“I know exactly what you meant,” Regina barked, as she turned the corner and disappeared completely from sight. 

xXx

_Teenagers are curious things_ , Zelena thought to herself as she observed her nephew over the top of a pile of discarded storybooks. As an adult, the wicked witch hadn’t really had much contact with teenagers – _unless you count that obnoxious twit_ Dorothy – so, it had been a while since she’d had the opportunity to study one up close.   
Henry didn’t say a lot; he offered not much more than a grunt when he did, and despite the fact it was a weekend and he could be spending time with his friends, he looked entirely enthralled in what he was researching.

_He must get it from Regina; she always was a bit of a hermit._

“If you take a photograph, it’ll last longer.” Henry interrupted the redhead’s musings, without so much as a glance in her direction.

“I’m sorry?” Zelena eyed-balled the teenager across the table, as if he’d just arrived from a distant planet. 

“You’re staring,” he said, matter of fact, removing his headphones from his ears. “Stop it.”

Zelena scoffed at his rudeness and resting a forearm on the table and leant in towards him. 

“Tell me, do you usually spend your weekends here by yourself, with your nose in a book?”

“No,” he scowled at her. “I do have friends,” his response was defensive. “Unlike some people,” he muttered, dropping his gaze to his book.

“I have lots of friends, I’ll have you know!” The redhead retorted, hastily; her nephews snipe had hit a nerve. Of course, she was spewing utter bullshit, but he didn’t need to know that. 

“Oh, really?” Henry lifted his head and narrowed his eyes, his interest now piqued. “Name one.” 

_Shit._

“Well,” the witch sat up a little straighter in her chair and flicked a strand of red hair over her shoulder. “There’s-”

“Who isn’t a monkey,” Henry pointed a finger at her, as he upped the challenge; his expression a little smug. 

“Okay, fine.” Zelena glared at her nephew. “How about, Regina? “

“But you’re sisters,” the teenager argued.

“So?” The redhead scowled. “We’re friends too.”

“Barely,” Henry rolled of his eyes. “Anyway,” he continued, with a shrug before Zelena had the opportunity to fabricate another friend. “In answer to your question: I like coming here,” he looked back down at his book and turned a page. “It’s _usually_ quiet.” 

“Oh, well excuse me for ruining your action-packed, library extravaganza,” the witch sighed heavily and slumped back in her chair, waving an arm in his general direction. “Do, carry on.” 

They’d been ‘hitting the books’ for about an hour already and although Zelena had found a few titbits that might prove useful in communicating across time and space, she was finding research using books, more tedious than usual. 

_This world has made me lazy._

The wicked witch yearned for some kind of magical Google. 

Zelena stole another glace at her nephew, watching him beavering away again, his pen was going ten to the dozen as he scaled the pages of the dusty book before him.

He seemed so focussed and Zelena wondered if the music blasting in his ears from that tiny box in his pocket, was providing some sort of auditory motivation. 

“Henry?” Curiosity got the better of the redhead and when calling the teenagers name gleamed no reaction, she threw a pencil across the table to draw his attention. It bounced off the book he was reading and fell to the floor.

“What, now?” Henry responded with blatant irritation, removing his headphones aggressively.

“What are you listening to?” Zelena gestured to her own ears, as if the question were complicated or her nephew was stupid. 

“Uh, music,” he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

“I know that, genius,” she rolled her eyes. “What music?” she asked. “Is it helping you concentrate?”

She watched as Henry’s features slowly softened; he eyed her pensively for a beat.

“I guess,” he finally said with a shrug, before offering her one of the earpieces. “It’s hits of the 80’s,” he explained. 

“What?” A frown formed on the redhead’s brow; she was entirely puzzled by his offering. “You’d really let me listen?” 

“If it’ll keep you quiet,” Henry snarked, but there was humour in his expression. “But you’ll need to sit over here,” he gestured to the chair beside him. “The cord won’t reach over the table.”

The wicked witch felt a flutter of something alien in her chest; the sensation was warming...

_Indigestion, she surmised._

She attempted to swallow it down. 

“Well, I suppose anything is better than deafening silence,” the witch said, feigning indifference, but she failed hold back the childish enthusiasm with which she rounded the table and took the proffered earpiece from the teenager. “I’ve got no idea who The 80’s are though,” she said as she copied her nephew and placed the rounded plastic end in her ear. “Are they American?” 

xXx

Despite knowing it was futile, Emma looked longingly down the passageway – hoping that for just once, Regina would see the error of her ways and come back to discuss their options about the book. 

The sheriff would admit that she hadn’t delivered her point very tactfully to the brunette, but she also believed that deep down, the mayor knew her to be right.

Saving Regina’s baby, was bigger than all of this - however the former queen had never been one to give in to demands made upon her. If the sheriff’s early interactions with Regina had taught her anything, it was that humility wasn’t really the brunette’s strongest suit

“Are you going after her?” Snow White asked, fixing her daughter with a look which deftly communicated that asked saying ‘no’, really wasn’t an option. 

“Are you?” Emma retorted, not even bothering to mask her dislike at being shouldered with the responsibility of reasoning with the angry pregnant woman.

“She’ll come around,” Snow smiled encouragingly. “She just needs a bit of reassurance, that’s all.” 

“That’s easy for you to say,” Emma hunched her shoulders as she strode past her mother and followed Regina into the vault. “If I get torched, it’s on you.”

“Take your time,” Snow’s smile broadened, and she rocked on the balls of her feet. “I’ll be out here if you need me.”

Truthfully, to Emma, Regina’s ‘storming out of a room’ routine was getting a little old; it was already the second time that day the blonde had needed to track down the brunette after an altercation. 

If she were honest with herself, Emma didn’t feel much like confronting the situation either; she wanted nothing more than to let Regina cool down before broaching the topic, but unfortunately, time was of the essence. They needed to move on the Ursula thing quickly, and an afternoon of sulking in the vault, wasn’t going to achieve much of anything at all.

As the saviour turned the corner by a large mirror, she came to an abrupt standstill. She had found herself to be in another passageway with four ornate-looking doors lining the walls.

_This place is a maze._

“Regina?” The blonde had no idea which door the brunette was hiding behind. “Regina come on; you can’t just keep storming off like that.”

Faced with only a wall of silence the blonde sighed heavily. She turned the handle of the first door to her right, when it opened with a horror movie-esq creak, she entered the room gingerly. 

“Regina?” 

Like the rest of the vault, this room was dimly lit by candles and housed a mass of magical knickknacks but what immediately caught the saviour’s eye was the open wardrobe on the far wall bursting with what looked to the blonde like fancy ballgowns. 

Curiosity got the better of her, and she moved to closer inspect the throng of elaborate and luxurious frocks before her; her quest to find Regina temporarily put on hold. 

_No way! She brought these?_

“They’re not mine,” a voice from behind Emma startled her and she turned sharply to find the mayor sitting in an antique-looking arm chair, in the corner of the room a silver chest the size of a shoe box, lay open upon her lap. 

“They’re not?” Emma eventually asked, struggling to keep the disappointment form her voice; she’d quite like to have seen Regina wearing some more of the infamous outfits she’d overheard guys discussing at the Rabbit Hole. 

“They were my mothers.” The brunette sighed; her gaze drifting wistfully around the room. “In fact, all of this is.”

“Wow.” Emma followed the mayor’s gaze. “You sure kept a lot of her stuff,” she attempted to keep things light, as she mapped the shelves containing trinkets and expensive looking pottery. “The curse didn’t come with any baggage allowance then, huh?”

Regina didn’t get the joke. ( _She’s never used an airline, you moron. Why the hell would she?_ ). 

“Emma, this _stuff_ \- as you put it - is all I have left of her.”

The blonde nodded stiffly and took cautious steps towards the brunette. Even in the dull light, the sheriff could see that Regina’s guard was now down as there was a softness to her expression, a distant sadness in her troubled brown eyes.

As Emma reached the brunette’s side, she crouched in front of her and rested an elbow on the arm of the red-velvet chair.

“Look, I’m sorry for what I said back there,” the saviour shook her head and shrugged gently. “I was being a jerk.” When Regina did nothing but stare at her, Emma continued. “I can’t even begin to understand the complexity of the relationship that you shared with your mother.”

“Complex doesn’t even begin to cover it,” the former queen muttered, as she looked down into the open container on her lap, pulling out a diamond encrusted broach. “She did some terrible things.”

“I’m sure that I don’t know the half of it,” Emma concurred.

“She ruined my life,” the brunette dropped the bejewelled item back into the chest and rested her wrists on the box’s edge; raising her gaze to meet the blondes. “But, I still loved her.”

“I know you did,” the saviour nodded softly in understanding. There had been plenty for Emma to be angry at her own parents for over the years ( _abandonment, that whole fiasco with Maleficent_ ) – but families were weird things; she’d never once stopped loving them. 

“You know, it’s ironic,” a cynical smile twitched at the brunette’s lips. “She used to tell me that love was weakness.”

“She was wrong,” Emma said, sternly.

“In the end, she thought that too.” Regina nodded, yet her expression revealed her scepticism. “But isn’t love the very weakness that Ursula’s exploiting right now?”

“Only if you let her,” the blonde shrugged a single shoulder, looking up into confused, dark eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” the brunette’s eyes narrowed. “Aren’t you supposed to be here convincing me to part with the book?” 

“I’m getting there,” Emma’s lip quirked into a fleeting sideways smile, before she continued. “Look,” the blonde shifted to place her hand on the other woman’s clothed knee, conscious of not actually touching her skin. “I might have lived this fairy-tale existence for less time than you, Regina, but what I can tell you with absolute certainty, is that love is not weakness.” 

“I’m not so sure anymore.”

“Love is strength,” the blonde rolled her eyes. “And I know I sound like my mother right now, but it’s true.” She nodded. “It’s broken curses, helped raise our son,” her gaze dropped fleetingly to the brunette’s stomach. “And we’ll use it together, to save your child.”

Regina didn’t say anything at all. She continued to look down at the blonde, her eyes filling with tears; a hundred emotions passing over her features as she undoubtedly tried to fathom what Emma had meant with those final words.

The saviour’s own heart burned in her chest; she knew they’d both felt that level of emotion passing between them – but the L word was yet to be voiced. Unsure as to whether now was the right time for confessions of the heart, Emma decided to press on in a different direction. 

“Your love for this child is your strength, Regina,” she smiled encouragingly, and when the mayor offered her a watery smile in return, she knew she’d said the right thing. “It’s believing what your mother said, that’s truly your weakness.”

That did it.

As the floodgates opened and tears began to stream down Regina’s face, she grabbed Emma’s arm and pulled her up into an awkward yet fierce hug – knocking the contents of the silver chest onto the floor between them.

The saviour stood in a half crouch with Regina’s arms looped tightly around her neck, holding her in place. She rubbed soothing circles on the crying woman’s back with one hand, whilst clutching at the chair and trying to maintain her balance with the other. 

“Thank you,” the brunette whispered into the sheriff’s hair; sniffing in an unqueenly manor, before releasing Emma to wipe the tears from her own face. “I’m sorry for crying and,” she sniffed once more “for storming off again. I just feel so…so-” 

“Fucking emotional,” the blonde said as she stood up straighter, a knowing smirk tweaking at her lips. 

A self-deprecating laugh fell from Regina’s lips as grimace settled over her features. She looked down at her hands where they rested limply, in her own lap. 

“Just a tad,” the brunette conceded.

“Yeah,” Emma nodded and rocked on back on her heels. “Pregnancy will do that.”

“I just,” the mayor sighed. “I don’t ever recall being _this_ hormonal before.”

“Well,” Emma hooked her thumbs through the belt loops on her jeans and smiled when Regina’s gaze rose again to meet hers. “Maybe that’s because when you were a queen, you always got your own way.”

An unexpected laugh erupted from the brunette’s throat and the blonde’s smile broadened in response.

“That’s a very good point, Miss Swan,” Regina smirked up at her. “I believe you’ve just discovered the antidote to my emotional outbursts.” 

“Letting you win?” Emma quirked an eyebrow. “Not a chance, lady,” the blonde teased, but then as Regina got to her feet, the saviours smile slowly faded. “What do you want to do about the book?”

“I really don’t know,” the mayor sighed, physically deflating. “I suppose we can keep the option of giving it to Ursula on the table-”

“Yeah?” Emma asked, a little surprised at her own powers of persuasion.

“But,” the former queen continued. “I think I’d like to speak to Maleficent before we make any decisions.” 

“Mal?” Emma frowned, unable to keep the bitterness out of her tone. “What can she do?” 

_That I can’t_

“Well,” Regina started, seemingly oblivious to Emma’s insecurities, as she bent to collect the discarded silver chest and its contents from the floor. “They were friends once,” she bobbed her head from side to side. “Or something like it,” she rose to standing. “Maybe she can talk to Ursula; make her see reason?”

“I guess it can’t hurt,” Emma nodded and as Regina moved to place the silver chest on a nearby shelf, the blonde contemplated the feeling of jealousy that had churned in her gut, at the mere mention of Maleficent’s name. The sheriff’s feelings towards the dragon weren’t entirely unfounded; Mal and Regina interacted with a familiarity that spoke of them once being close.

_But how close is close?_

“Lunch at Granny’s?” Regina was suddenly back at the saviour’s side, her mascara streaked cheeks had now been magically covered with a fresh layer of makeup. “We can collect the Mercedes and pick up Henry on the way?”

“Sure,” Emma nodded, painting on a smile and following the brunette from the room; fighting the fresh sense of unease that had crept into her bones.

_I’m not usually the jealous type._

xXx

“Well, this is new.” Regina stood in the entrance way to the library at the sorcerer’s mansion; her arms were folded over her chest and a bemused smile tugged at her lips.

“Oh my God,” Emma came to stand alongside the mayor, looking equally bewildered.

“Never gonna’ give you up, never gonna’ let you down!” Sat at a table, with her back to the door and therefore entirely unaware she had company, Zelena sang along to whatever she was listing to on 

Henry’s headphones; swaying in time to the music. “I like this one, Henry!” The redhead yelled across the room. “Who sings it?”

“Rick Astley,” their son’s disembodied voice travelled around a bookshelf, before he came into view. “And there’s no need to shout, I’m right-“ he paused when he noticed his mothers’ standing by the entrance. “Oh, hey mom’s.”

“Hey,” Emma muttered; her confusion at the situation written all over her face. 

“Henry,” Regina smiled, before she spared a quick glance at Zelena; a soft frown creasing her brow. “What’s going on?”

“She’s here to help,” Henry shrugged, offloading the few books he was carrying on to the table where his aunt sat. 

Slightly puzzled by Henry talking, but not to her, Zelena followed her nephew’s gaze.

“Oh, hi!” Upon seeing the other women, the redhead looked at little startled. She quickly removed her headphones. “We’re listing to hits of the 80’s,” she explained. 

“So, I see,” Regina nodded, raising her eyebrows and taking a single step into the room, “and hear.” The brunette eyed her sister suspiciously. “Zelena, what are you doing here?” Her frown deepened. “In a library?”

“Why, research, of course.” Zelena beamed. “What else?” 

“Right,” the mayor responded, noticing the stack of books on the table in front on the redhead. Zelena had said she would help them with a way to communicate across time – but the brunette didn’t think she’d actually go through with it. 

Frankly, to Regina, the whole idea had just sounded like a lot of hot air. 

“Aunt Zelena might have found a way for Ma to get in touch, once she’s in the past,” Henry said, excitedly. 

“You really found something?” Emma asked, sounding a little shocked as she moved to stand next to Regina. 

“Don’t sound so surprised,” the wicked witch draped her arm over the back of her chair and twisted to face the other two women. “This is not my first time-traveling rodeo, after all.”

“You’re kidding,” Regina stood up a little straighter, eyeing her older sister with unconcealed scepticism. “You’ve only been here a few hours and you’ve already found the impossible?” 

“Nothing’s impossible when you’re as brilliant as I am,” Zelena retorted with a smirk. “And I might have come up with a solution sooner, if you’d bothered to tell me.”  
Regina’s retort caught in her throat and panic started to rise in her chest as she remembered just what Henry had been at the library researching. The mayor’s gaze darted over towards her son, who suddenly looked extremely uncomfortable. 

_Oh God!_

“If we’d bothered to tell you what?” Emma asked, seemingly having not made the same connection as the brunette.

“Mutual bloody empathy,” Zelena said, irritably as she got to her feet. “Did you not think that it might have been useful for me to know?” She turned to perch against the edge of table and folded her arms over her chest, eying the other women distastefully. “I mean, I’m only working my backside off here, trying to create a communication spell-”

“Zelena, you’ve only been here for a few hours,” Emma rolled her eyes. 

“It still took longer than it needed to,” the redhead protested. “I’m a busy woman, sheriff,” she continued. “Though admittedly, not as busy as some-”

“Zelena,” Regina warned; anxiously aware of where the conversation may be heading. 

“Speaking of: what about this, hmm?” The witch waved her hand backwards and forwards in the space between the other two women. “Your recent venture into lesbianism,” she said, with her usual brand of subtlety. “Isn’t that the sort of news you might have shared with your sister?”

Emma instantly flushed; her mouth gaped open, but no sound came out. 

“Zelena!” Regina spoke through clenched teeth; she could feel her own cheeks burning. “That is none of your business.”

“I’m so sorry Mom’s,” Henry cut in, looking equally as mortified. “When she said she was here to help, I thought she meant with the mutual empath thing,” he practically spluttered. “She put two and two together - and I told her she was wrong, but-”

“Your son is a terrible liar,” the redhead smirked, looking thoroughly pleased with herself.

“Oh, God,” Regina raised a hand to rub away the tension forming at her brow. “Is there anybody left in Storybrooke that doesn’t know?”

“Probably not for long,” Zelena commented, unhelpfully. “I mean, you’re hardly subtle,” the redhead continued, “Honestly, Regina, I’m a little disappointed it took you so long.”

“Zelena, stop it!” The brunette snapped. “Whatever is happening between Emma and I is a private matter; it has absolutely nothing to do with you,” she spared an apologetic glance at the blonde, who still looked utterly shell-shocked. “So, can we please just focus this miraculous time-travelling discovery of yours?” 

“Well, I’m afraid the two aren’t mutually exclusive, sis,“ Zelena said nonchalantly, pushing herself from the table and turning to collect the notes she had made. 

“Oh,” Regina re-crossed her arms over her chest. “And why’s that?”

“The success of my _ingenious_ plan, will be directly influenced by the strength of your bond with the saviour,” Zelena waved an arm in the blonde’s direction. “No pressure.”

“Mutual Empathy,” Regina muttered, starting to pace the floor as she followed her sister’s train of thought. “You’re going to use our new connection to, what?” She came to a stop by Henry, turning back to face the redhead. “Enchant some kind of communication device? Like a mirror?”

“It’s brilliant, isn’t it?” Zelena beamed. 

“Mirror magic is not strong enough to cross realms and time,“ Regina argued.

“Maybe, not directly,” Zelena held up the piece of paper she was holding; proudly displaying a drawing of three separate mirrors connected by lines, and a crude stick figure sketch of the saviour and the evil queen at either end.

“What the hell is that?” Emma asked, re-joining the conversation, looking no less perturbed.

“It’s a three-way communication device, silly,” the witch held the paper closer to Emma’s face, as if the proximity would help. “The message goes through a mirror and across realms,” she followed the line with her finger. “ _Then_ with the help of a spicy little spell cooked up by yours truly, it goes back in time.” 

Regina snatched the drawing out of her sister’s hand and glared at it.

_It’s impossible_ , she told herself. _Yet still…_

“Is that even possible?” Emma asked, moving to look over the brunette’s shoulder at the ridiculous drawing. “Regina?” 

The mayor slowly turned her head to look at the blonde, before dropping her gaze to the drawing once more. 

“Maybe,” she finally responded; a little irked that she hadn’t thought of the idea herself. The brunette dropped the hand which was holding the drawing to her side and looked up at her sister, raising her eyebrows. “I mean, it’s a stretch,” she tilted her head to the side and returned her gaze to the saviour. “We’d have to figure out a way to get a conduit to the enchanted forest,” she pondered, before finally conceding; her astonishment evident in her tone. “But, I think our wicked witch might actually be on to something.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah…plot development!  
> I did make myself chuckle (sad, I know) thinking about what Zelena’s stick-figure drawing of Emma and the EQ might look like. Anyone fancy having a go at creating it and I’ll use the funniest ones as cover art for a while? The more rubbish looking, the better haha! Let me know in a comment and we can have a chat.  
> Thanks for reading.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I’m late (again).
> 
> I blame Regina, she was being difficult.
> 
> Thanks to Loweze for the great beta work (sorry about all the hyphens)!

Chapter 26

“I just don’t get it,” Emma huffed, sparing Regina a glance as she shoved her hands deep into the pockets of her jacket. It was another chilly day in Maine; even through her leather gloves, the sheriff could feel the cold bite of the wind. 

“Surely, if I go back in time, as long as I don’t screw anything up, it’ll be like I never left.” The blonde frowned, working the theory over as they strolled down Main Street towards their destination. 

“Like, I’ll just return to the exact point in time from when I left, but with the water, obviously.”

“Well, that would depend entirely on Gold’s plan to send you back,” Regina said, bringing them to a stop outside the pawn shop. “Which is exactly why we’re here.”

The two women had just dropped Henry, Zelena and baby Robin off at Granny’s, to grab them a table for lunch. Despite the loud growling of Emma’s stomach and her clear vocal protest, the mayor had insisted that before they could join them, they had to speak to Gold.

Zelena’s plan to allow them to communicate whilst apart, seemed to Emma, to have motivated the brunette somewhat; it was as if a weight had been lifted, and with it: much of Regina’s reluctance to take part. Even though the sole reason for the blonde’s journey to the past was to save Regina’s unborn child; it was the first time the sheriff had seen this level of enthusiasm from her.  
Although the saviour didn’t entirely understand the brunette’s sudden change of heart, she wasn’t about to question it. 

_Communication across time, however…_

“But, let’s say that was the case, that I was only gone for like, a split second; how would it work exactly?” Emma pulled Zelena’s drawing of the plan from her pocket. “This communication stuff, I mean.”

A slight frown creased Regina’s brow as she contemplated the saviour’s words. Emma felt a semblance of relief knowing that the answer to her question wasn’t blatantly obvious; it felt nice for once, to have company in her confusion. 

“Parallel timelines,” the mayor finally said, although to the blonde, the brunette didn’t sound too convinced of her own theory. “Two timelines co-existing, until you return.”

“But, then what happens to that other time line once I’ve returned?”

“I don’t know; I’m not Emmet Brown, Emma,” Regina rolled her eyes exasperatedly. “I’m speculating here. Don’t forget, you’re the one that actually has time travelling experience.”

“Emmet Brown?” Emma quirked a single eyebrow in amusement. “Did you just reference Back to the Future?”

Regina simply fixed the saviour with a withered expression.

“Alright,” Emma conceded, holding her hands up in mock surrender. “So, I’ve been back in time, but all I did was fall through a portal.” 

“Again,” the mayor deadpanned.

“Oh, you’re _funny_ ,” the blonde narrowed her eyes and a teasing smirk formed on the brunette’s full lips in response. 

“What I’m getting at, is that my journey to the past wasn’t planned; it’s not like I had time to question the logic.”

“Well, Sheriff,” the mayor took a step towards the saviour, invading her personal space and painting on her best politician’s smile. “We can stand out here and question the logic all we want, but until we discuss the possibility of this plan with Gold,” Regina tapped the drawing in Emma’s hand, with a gloved finger, “it’s impossible to know anything for sure. So, with that in mind…” the former queen looped her arm around the saviours and angled them in the direction of the shop. “Shall we?”

xXx

As the bell above the doorway to the pawn shop sounded, Regina’s stomach turned. This time, her nausea wasn’t borne of her pregnancy, it was the sight of the smirking imp standing behind the shop’s counter.

“Twice in one-week ladies?” Gold’s smirk stretched slowly over his crooked teeth to form a smug grin. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”  
Regina swallowed, thickly. 

It had been the brunette who had pushed for the conversation with Gold to happen immediately, but now that she was stood in the shop before him, she found herself at a loss as to where to begin. 

Receiving word from Ursula so quickly had been unexpected and if Regina were honest, it had influenced her reaction to Zelena’s plan. It had only been a few days and already the other witches were on board, which meant one thing: Emma would be leaving soon.

Of course Regina had grasped onto Zelena’s communication plan with both hands; it offered the brunette a glimmer of hope in a situation where she currently had no control. 

Yet still, a sense of foreboding washed over her.

Even though they’d agreed to only supply the dark one with the cliff notes version of Zelena’s plan, Regina knew that she and Emma’s ‘mutual empathy’ was going to be hard to play down. Once Rumple got a whiff of their magical anomaly, he’d be like a dog with a bone. 

_Maybe I should have thought this through…_

The brunette wasn’t usually this impulsive, especially when it came to matters so critical. She could tell herself that her uncharacteristic rashness, was a direct result of her heightened emotions or perhaps her pregnancy dulled brain, but the truth of it was, Regina had been led there by her heart.

Just that morning, Emma had told her ‘love was strength’; yet in that moment, as Regina stood there before Gold, Cora’s voice echoed much louder in her head. 

“We’ve got some questions,” perhaps sensing Regina’s hesitation, Emma got straight to the point; she marched across the shop and slapped Zelena’s crudely drawn sketch onto the counter. 

Gold fleetingly ran his gaze over it. 

“Very Artistic, Miss Swan,” his eyes rose to meet the blondes. “I’ll be sure to pop it on the fridge.”

“Will you just take a damn look?” The sheriff retorted snappily; she was clearly in no mood to play games. 

Emma’s patience often waned when she was hungry, or ‘hangry’, as Regina had heard Henry refer to it. Unfortunately, the former queen also knew that Gold didn’t take particularly well to being given orders, especially in his own shop.

“Excuse me?” True to form, he immediately bristled.

The brunette took a deep breath to steel herself, raised her chin and reluctantly stepped in to defuse the situation.

“My sister may have just have discovered a way to communicate across time and space,” the mayor attempted to appeal to the dark one’s thirst for magical knowledge. “Tell us you’re not interested,” she crossed the room to stand next to Emma, “and we’ll be on our way.” 

Gold’s bottom jaw shifted slightly to one side and he narrowed his eyes, moving his beady gaze between the two women.

“Very well,” he finally said, and as he lowered his head to study the drawing more closely, Emma and Regina shared an anxious glance.

Several torturous beats passed.

“A conduit device,” Gold finally spoke, raising his gaze to meet the two women. “It’s an interesting theory, I’ll admit.” He crossed one hand over the other on the counter before him, a barely perceptible shrug pulling at his shoulders. “But what makes you think that the bond between the two of you, is strong enough to enact a spell like that?”

“We’re good friends,” the brunette replied, sounding unconvincing, even to her own ears.

“Good friends?” Gold’s eyebrows retreated to his hairline. “It wasn’t so long ago, Madam Mayor, that you wanted this one dead.”

A mixture of guilt and outrage hit Regina hard and she once again found herself at a loss for words. 

It wasn’t as though the sheriff had been unaware of the level of animosity which had once been between them, but in light of the recent developments in their relationship, to be reminded of just how much hate she once harboured for the blonde, it hurt.

“Well, there’s a fine line between love and hate,” Emma spat, coming to Regina’s defence without giving it a second thought, although on this occasion, the brunette wished she had.

Regina’s head whipped around to look at the blonde; a heat forming in her cheeks and panic rising in her chest. She found herself torn between wanting to reprimand the idiotic woman for saying what she had in front of Gold, and the desire to kiss her, for the passion with which she had said it.

However, it appeared that Emma had already realised her mistake; the sheriff’s expression was now one of alarm and her faux-pas was not lost on Gold.

“Ah,” Gold folded his arms over his chest, a twinkle of amusement in eyes. “The Evil Queen and her Saviour, how romantic.”

“Don’t be so ridiculous, Gold,” Regina retorted, as casually as she could. “Emma just means we’re family; we share a son.”

“But my grandson isn’t the one going back, is he Madam Mayor?” Gold argued, refusing to let the point drop. “So, I’ll ask you again, what makes you think that the bond between yourself and Miss Swan is strong enough to even cross realms, let alone time?”

“You just let us worry about that,” Emma said, through gritted teeth. 

“Oh, I see,” Gold turned to the side and paced a few steps behind the counter. “So first you won’t tell me why you need to go back in time, and now your keeping something else from me?” He spun back to face the two women. “Madam Mayor, need I remind you that magic is volatile?”

“I understand magic perfectly well-” Regina started to respond.

“What if one of these secrets of yours, was to affect the outcome of my spell?” Gold continued, coming back to stand by the counter. “What then?”

“It won’t,” Reginia said flatly.

“Time travel isn’t an exact science, dearie,” he placed his palms on the counter top and leant towards the brunette. “How can you be so sure?”

_I can’t._

“Because it won’t!” The brunette snapped, and it felt like her words sucked the air from the room. 

Gold’s eyes locked onto the mayors; they had found themselves at an impasse.

Regina held her breath.

A beat passed before an expression, unreadable to the mayor, passed over the pawnbroker’s face. 

“What?” She asked; her tone full of bluster to disguise her fear.

_Can he tell?_

“It might work,” Gold finally said with a shrug, as he pushed himself back from the counter top. 

Regina released the breath she was holding and glanced at Emma, who looked equally as relieved. 

“But know this,” he continued, his tone dripping with distain as his gaze flitted between the two women. “If things go wrong because of something you’re not telling me, on your heads be it.” 

xXx

“Cooee!” As Regina and Emma entered the diner, Zelena waved to them from a booth at the back of the room. 

The sheriff raised her eyebrows at the redhead’s over enthusiasm but headed over to join them anyway; the mayor trailed sullenly behind. 

She slowed to a stop part way across the diner, watching as Emma greeted Henry with the customary ruffling of his hair. Feigned annoyance washed over their son’s face and he laughed as he tried to shield his gel-styled hair from the sheriff’s playful attack.

A sickening felling coiled in the brunette’s gut.

_She’s really leaving._

Apparently, there had been one minor detail that the infuriating imp had failed to mention about his time travelling spell: the portal could only be opened on a full moon. 

Regina may have been right about parallel time lines, but she’d been so wrong about the amount of time they would get together, before Emma had to leave…and how long they’d be apart.   
When it came to Regina’s pregnancy, time was of the essence and the next full moon was less than two weeks away.

Then blonde would be gone for a month.

The mayor had assumed they’d have more time. They’d barely explored who they were now to each other and it seemed that just like with everything else, control was slipping through the brunette’s fingers. 

“Regina?” Emma dragged the brunette from her thoughts and signalled to the table, a confused expression on her face. “Are you joining us?” 

Regina bowed her head in silent affirmation and made her way over to them.

“You okay?” Emma asked, concern tugging at her brow as the brunette arrived at the table.

_Not at all._

“I’m fine,” Regina smiled thinly. “Just a little tired.” 

“So, how’d it go?” Henry swivelled in his seat to face his brunette mother. “What did Gold say about the plan?”

“Was he insanely jealous?” Zelena grinned from her seat opposite the teenager. “I bet he was.”

“It went…” Regina glanced at Emma again, before shifting Robin’s pram to one side, so she could slide in next to her sister, “…as well as can be expected.”

“What does that mean?” Henry frowned. “Will it work, or not?”

“Gold put on his scary face,” Emma said as she shrugged out of her jacket and stuffed it on the seat between her and her son, “but he said it would work.”

“Told you so,” Zelena said smugly. “I’m rarely wrong about these things.”

“He said it _might_ work,” Regina corrected.

“But that’s only because he didn’t know about the thing,” Emma waved her hand back and forth in the space between them both. “Don’t let him scare you.”

“I’m not scared,” Regina snapped, before catching herself and lowering her voice. “I’m just cautious, as you should be. Gold was right Emma, magic is volatile; there’s no way of knowing for sure what this new power between us might affect.”

Honestly, the mayor was a little irked at just how blasé the sheriff was being about Gold’s ‘full moon’ bombshell. Frankly, Emma had seemed more concerned with what to have for her lunch than the prospect of being apart for so long. 

“So, then why don’t we just tell him?” The blonde asked.

“That’s a terrible idea,” Zelena piped in.

“And give him the opportunity to exploit us?” Regina scoffed. “No, absolutely not.”

“And why is this just your decision?” Emma asked, frowning across the table at the brunette; her tone however remained light. “You know, considering I’m the one that’s actually going back time.”

“And yet you’re treating it like a weekend trip to Boston.” 

“You two squabble like an old married couple,” Zelena muttered as she pretended to review Granny’s menu. 

Both women looked scathingly at the redhead and Henry stifled a grin.

“I guess,” Emma brought her attention back to Regina. “I guess I just don't see the sense in worrying about it,” the blonde shrugged. “We’ve still got some time to figure this stuff out, and I believe in us,” the blonde reached across the table to rest her hand on the brunette’s. “I believe in you,” she smiled tightly, squeezing the brunettes hand for emphasis. “And besides, getting yourself stressed out about it, is not good for the baby.”

“Sheriff’s right,” four sets of startled eyes shot up to see Granny standing at their table. “You’ve got to watch that temper of yours.” 

Regina flushed crimson and snatched her hand back from beneath the blondes, whose mouth hung open in a flustered gape. 

“Anyway, now that you’re all here,” apparently oblivious to the distress she had caused, Granny raised her notepad and pen and readied herself to write. “What can I get ya?” She glanced around the table, an impatient expression on her face; “lasagne’s fresh.”

Regina and Emma shared a glance; both looked equally dumbfounded. 

“Uh, Granny…how?” The blonde finally mustered.

“What?” The older woman asked, somewhat brashly; a scowl on her brow. “You think I didn’t hear your altercation outside here the other night?”

“Wolf hearing,” Henry said, nudging Emma’s shoulder with his own.

“And it’s not as if you ordering that burger hadn’t already raised my suspicions,” Granny continued and looking pointedly at the mayor, she laughed out a single bark; “extra pickles?”

“Oh, God,” Regina covered her eyes. “Is there anybody in this town that doesn’t know?” 

“Oh relax, I’ve not told a soul,” Granny, rolled her eyes. “All the gossipmongers and curtain-twitchers in town can mind their own beeswax,” she said with a huff, folding her arms over her ample bosom. “I’d have minded my own if you hadn’t brought your private business to my doorstep,” she narrowed her eyes. “There’s not much goes on in this diner I don’t hear.” 

“That’s just perfect,” Regina groaned and shrunk a little in her seat.

It was no secret that Widow Lucas and the former queen had a turbulent history. Regina knew that Emma trusted the old wolf with her life, however the brunette had her doubts about the woman’s sincerity. Whenever a big magical bad had turned up in town, Granny was the first to point a finger in the mayor’s direction: _so why on earth would she keep my secret?_

All it would take was for Granny to open her mouth in front of Storybrooke’s resident fog-horn Grumpy, and the whole damn town would know. 

_This day just gets better and better._

“Granny,” Emma shifted awkwardly in her seat, apparently sensing Regina’s inner turmoil. “Could we maybe have a have a couple more minutes to decide?” 

“Fine,” the older woman huffed and turned to leave. “But lunch service is done in 15 minutes.”

As Granny wondered back towards the kitchen, Emma eyed Regina with concern.

“Are you okay?”

“Me?” The mayor asked bitterly as she shifted to sit a little straighter. “Oh, I’m just great.”

“She’ll keep your secret,” the blonde reached across the table for the brunette’s hand, but this time Regina pulled it away.

“I wish you’d stop presuming that people in this town will offer me the same kindness that they show you.” Regina argued. “These people owe me nothing.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Emma responded, wide eyed. “Regina, they owe you their lives; several times over.”

“She’s right, Mom,” Henry added, sincerity in his eyes. “We can trust Granny.”

The mayor set her jaw but said nothing. She knew Henry and Emma truly believed that she’d fully redeemed herself, but they didn’t understand. How could they? They weren’t there... 

Nothing could ever make up for the pain she had caused as Queen. 

_Which is why I’m still being punished._

“Regina,” Emma reached across the table for a third time; only this time, caught off guard, the brunette didn't flinch away from her touch. “It’ll be okay.”

The mayor instantly felt the familiar sensation of the saviour’s reassurance creeping though her veins. It was warming, it was comforting...

_No._

“Don’t,” Regina abruptly pulled her hand away. “Don’t do that,” she brought her hands back to the safety of her own lap. “Don’t use it against me like that.”

“What?” Emma asked incredulously. “I wasn’t using it against you. Regina” she dipped her head and lowered her voice, “…I was trying to comfort you.”

“Well, I don't need you to,” the mayor said stiffly, her tone harking back to the saviour’s first weeks in Storybrooke. “I am perfectly entitled to feel blindsided by all of this, and to deal with it in my own way.”

“Regina, come on-” Emma started, but the brunette ignored the blonde’s protest and slid out from the booth.

“You’re not having lunch?” Henry asked, looking disappointed. 

“I’m afraid I seem to have lost my appetite,” Regina offered her son a sad smile and tugged on the arms of her coat, straightening out the creases. “I’ll see you at home for dinner.” She nodded a farewell to her sister; “Zelena.”

“Regina I-” as the sheriff moved to stand, the mayor held up her hands to halt the other women’s movements.

“Emma it’s fine,” the brunette took a step backwards, but relaxed her tone a little. “I’m not storming off, I just,” she sighed, “I’m just being proactive.”

“Proactive?” The blonde looked puzzled.

“I'm going to speak to Mal,” Regina explained, avoiding the blonde’s eyes as she pulled her leather gloves from her coat pocket and put them on; there was a caution in her manor as she anticipated the sheriff’s reaction.

“Maleficent?” As expected, Emma bristled and the new edge to her tone was not lost on Zelena; the redhead watched the scene unfolding before her with rapt fascination.

“Like it or not, Emma, if we want Ursula in Storybrooke by next week,” Regina regained eye contact with the blonde, “we’ll need Mal’s help.”

“Next week?” Zelena asked, before the saviour could protest. “What’s the rush?”

“We’ve uh,” Emma stumbled over her words, sparing the redhead a sideways glance, “we’ve only got ten days before we need to open the portal.”

“Ten days?” The redhead exclaimed. 

“That’s too soon,” Henry said, his worried gaze shifting between his mothers. 

“I quite agree,” the brunette released a humourless laugh. “Which is why I intend to use the time we have left, wisely,” she raised her arms, poised to poof, before sparing Emma a final, tight smile. “I’ll call you.”

With that, Regina disappeared in a cloud of purple smoke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TBC
> 
> Let the jealousy begin!


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks heaps to the fabulous Loweze for the beta, mwah.

 

** Chapter 27 **

Regina materialised in a cloud of purple smoke; her arrival disturbing the tranquillity of Storybrooke’s picturesque woodland.

She closed her eyes against the wave of nausea that followed and allowed the clean air and fresh scent of pine, to ebb away at the residual claustrophobia which had travelled with her from the diner.

The former queen was certainly no stranger to being the centre of attention; in fact, there was once a time she’d have been furious were she not. However, what Regina was definitely not accustomed to, was having people pander to her needs so… _willingly_.

It was as if the knowledge of her pregnancy was flipping some kind of invisible switch in her former adversaries, and considering her turbulent history with the people of Storybrooke, Regina was finding their attention unsettling; their open desire to assist her was at times, smothering.  

If the extra attention wasn’t overwhelming enough for the brunette, in the past several hours: the recent shift in her love life had been exposed to Henry, Snow and Zelena; she’d received a ridiculous demand from Ursula; discovered that Emma would be leaving in just ten days, and found out that Granny now also knew of her pregnancy.

The Mayor placed a hand delicately over her stomach in an attempt to still the churning.

Today would have been a lot for her to shoulder, even if she wasn’t dealing with raging pregnancy hormones and persistent nausea.

So, she’d been a little sulky and abruptly left the diner? Not once today had she threatened anybody with a fireball to the face.

_If that’s not showing self-control, I don’t know what is._

Regina slowly breathed in another deep, cleansing breath, and as her overwrought nerves began to unravel and the feeling of sickness eased, she opened her eyes and took in her surroundings.

The mayor frowned.

“Where the hell am I?”

The brunette whipped her head around to survey the area.

_Oh, for God’s sake._

It wasn’t until she glimpsed the chimney smoke, rising above a line of trees in the distance, that Regina realised her aim when teleporting, hadn’t been entirely off.

“What am I doing all the way over here?”

The mayor sighed heavily; on top of everything else that had happened that day, it appeared now her pregnancy was affecting her magic.

_Magic is emotion._

_Damn it._

“Seriously?” The brunette looked up to the sky, silently cursing whomever might be listening.

Huffing in frustration, Regina shoved her hands into her coat pockets and trudged grumpily across the large clearing, towards Mal’s cottage.

xXx

“Well, that was rude,” Zelena muttered, as she ran her gaze over Granny’s lunch menu, looking characteristically unamused.

“Regina’s got a lot to deal with right now,” Emma said as she slumped back in the booth. Yet, despite being quick to come to the brunette’s defence, the blonde was unable to wipe the defeated expression from her own face. “Cut her some slack.”

“She doesn’t even seem grateful that I’m helping,” the redhead sighed heavily and tossed her menu back on the table, fixing the saviour with a withered stare. “She could at least have paid for lunch.”   

Emma opened her mouth, ready to chastise the redhead for being so selfish, but something stopped her; Zelena actually had a point.

Regina didn’t seem grateful at all; in fact, today, every attempt to placate, encourage or assist her had been met with resistance from the brunette.

The mayor had always been highly strung, and her recent mood swings were most definitely an exaggeration of this character trait, however Emma now wondered if the brunette’s more recent displays of obstinance, ran deeper than that.

Why was Regina pushing everybody away at a time when she needed them most?

_Everybody, except Maleficent, it appeared._

“So, you’re really leaving in ten days?” Henry’s question pulled the saviour from her bitter thoughts and into the present.  

“Afraid so, kid,” the saviour shrugged and sat forward in her chair. Resting her elbows on the table, the blonde left behind her thoughts of Regina and Mal and focussed on her son. “Apparently, it’s to do with travelling in line with moon cycles or…something,” she frowned, having already forgotten most of what Gold had said. “Your mom knows.” 

“Moon cycles?” Zelena frowned. “So, you’ll be stuck in that godforsaken place for a month?” The witch curled her top lip in distaste. “Rather you than me.”

“Wait. You’ll be there for a whole month?” Henry exclaimed, twisting in his seat to fully face his mother; concern evident in his expression.

“What? I’ll be back before you know it,” the blonde angled her body towards the teenager and attempted look impassive. The truth was, however, spending a whole month in the Enchanted Forest did cause her some concern: after her time spent in Neverland, Emma really hated camping.

“Ma,” Henry raised his eyebrows, apparently not buying her casual facade. “You’re going to be in the Enchanted Forest for a whole month,” he eyed her, incredulously; “by yourself.”

“And?” The blonde looked taken aback, her gaze shifting between Zelena and her son. “You worried I’ll get gobbled up by an ogre or something?”

“Or something,” Henry mumbled and dropped his gaze to a menu on the table; he ran his finger along the corner where the laminated paper had started to curl.

“Henry, come on,” Emma dismissed her son’s concern, with a chuckle. “I’m the Saviour, remember?”

At that, Henry’s face screwed up in a way that made Emma yearn for the days when he believed she was invincible.

“Last time you were there, you ended up in the Evil Queen’s dungeon.”

“Kinky,” Zelena smirked.  

“Eww,” the teenager glared at his aunt.

“But I escaped,” Emma countered, sparing Zelena a scathing glance for her inappropriate comment in front of Henry. “I lived to tell the tale.”

“You had help to escape,” Henry protested, focussing his attention back on his mom. “This time you’ll be alone.”

“Henry, I can do this,” the sheriff said with finality and honesty, she had every confidence that she could. “I know what to expect now, what to be careful of.” She dipped her head to look into his eyes. “I might not have grown up in a world filled with witches and warlocks, but I have a handle on my power now; I can hold my own,” she nudged his knee with her own and offered him a smile. “I once slayed a dragon, remember.”

“True,” Henry reluctantly smiled back, looking at least little calmer about the situation. “That is pretty awesome.”

“A dragon which is now _very_ much alive and currently having lunch with your girlfriend,” Zelena added, unhelpfully. “It’s funny how these things turn out, isn’t it?”

“Would you keep your voice down?” Emma chastised the redhead; sitting up a little straighter, she threw a cautionary glance around the diner, a blush colouring her cheeks. “Seriously. Do you just exist to antagonise?” The saviour scowled at the witch across the table. “And they are not having lunch; they’re just discussing the plan.”

“Without you…” Zelena retorted, a smugness in her expression.

“Hey, the magic stuff is Regina’s department,” Emma held her hands up and rested back in her seat in an attempt to look casual. “I’m just the muscle in this equation.”

“You’re the brawn,” Henry smirked.

“Exactly-,” Emma nodded. “Wait a minute,” she gave her son the side-eye. “Are you saying I’m not the brains?”

Henry laughed, and the saviour leaned over and gave the teenager a playful shove. 

“Oh, come on, Saviour. I know jealousy when I see it,” Zelena leant forward in her seat; clearly refusing to let her point drop. “I was once literally green with envy, remember?”

“Zelena,” the saviour rolled her eyes. “I don’t know what to tell you,” she shrugged, “but I’m not jealous. “

“Still, can’t say I blame you,” the redhead said, relaxing back in the booth and ignoring Emma’s protests. “They did used to be _awfully_ close.”

“I’m not,” Emma stopped talking, her frown deepening. “Wait. How close is _awfully_ close?”

xXx

“Regina…”

When Maleficent opened the front door to her quaint little cottage, the last person she expected to see on her stoop was Storybrooke’s illustrious mayor. “What a lovely surprise,” the dragon purred, and it was; as unhealthy as it proved to be for the both of them, Mal truly did miss the brunette’s company. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Mal,” Regina greeted her old friend with a stiff nod of her head and an even stiffer smile. To the blonde, the mayor looked uncomfortable in her own skin, which was something incredibly uncharacteristic of the former queen. “May I come in?”

“Of course, dear,” Mal stepped to one side to allow Regina entry; blue eyes mapping her guest’s every movement. Something most definitely felt ‘off’ with the brunette. “Come on in.”

“Thank you,” Regina slipped through the front door and into the living room; her gaze traveling around the space, giving it an appraising once over, before settling back on her host.

“Do you like it?” Mal asked, as she slinked past the mayor and headed for the kitchen; her black, silk kimono fluttering around her calves as she moved. “Like many in this world, I seem to have developed a penchant for interior design.”

“You always did have exquisite taste,” Regina concurred, as she followed the older woman through the house.

“Thank you, dear,” Mal turned back to face her guest, bringing them both to a stop by the kitchen island, “I’m ashamed to realise however, that not once have I invited you over for tea.”

“That is true,” Regina agreed, before a fleeting smirk touched her lips. “However, meeting for tea wasn’t really our _thing_ , was it?”

A flurry of memories flitted through the blonde’s mind: hot breath, slick fingers, tangled limbs... oh yes, she had missed that side of Regina very much.   

“Quite,” Mal smiled seductively, wondering for just a moment if the brunette had plans to rekindle their affair. As soon as the flirtation had surfaced however, it was whisked away to be hidden behind a blank, mayoral mask.

_What a pity._

“Speaking of which,” Mal took the hint and moved the conversation on, “would you like some tea?”

“Thank you, but no.” Reginia politely declined. “I’m afraid I won’t be staying.”

“Oh?” Mal folded her arms over her chest and leant back against the counter; disappointment evident in her tone. “So, this isn’t a social call?”

“You know it’s not.”

Regina’s clipped response made the dragon smile; the former queen knew her all too well.

“A girl can dream,” the blonde said flirtatiously, shrugging a single shoulder and was sure she noticed a slight blush colouring the brunette’s cheeks in response.

“Very well,” Mal conceded with a sigh, bowing her head. “How can I be of service on this fine, Sunday afternoon?”

“Ursula.” Regina said simply, raising her chin and crossing her arms over her chest.

“What about her?” Mal’s eyes narrowed; judging by the mayor’s body language, it was nothing good.

“She’s agreed to help with the plan to send Emma back in time.”

“But there’s a catch,” it wasn’t a question. Maleficent knew her scaly friend wouldn’t simply help Regina out of the kindness of her heart, there was far too much animosity between the two of them for that.

The brunette nodded once, her tongue coming out to nervously wet her lips.

“In return for her assistance, she wants me to hand over my mother’s spell book.”

“Oh,” Mal said, genuinely surprised; that, she wasn’t expecting. Her raised eyebrows suddenly dipped to form a frown. “And let me guess, you think that I’ll be able to convince her otherwise?”

“I’m counting on it,” Regina took a single step towards the blonde, her stony expression withering with the movement.

Maleficent simply stared back, her eyes searching the brunettes.

Regina was notoriously proud; she seldom asked for help and this was already the second time in a few days that she’d called in a favour.

Mal frowned.

Whatever had happened to her feisty Queen?

Still, there was something in the brunettes open vulnerability that drew Maleficent in.

She was like a moth to a flame.

“I think this situation calls for something a little stronger than tea,” the older woman finally said, before making a bee-line for her liquor cabinet.   

xXx

Emma sat reclined in her office chair, her boot encased feet propped up on the desk. Her father had left the station over an hour ago and she was yet to muster the motivation to do anything productive, at all.

Instead, the sheriff had spent the last hour throwing a stress-ball into the air above her head and catching it one-handed.

It had only landed on her face twice.

Zelena’s comments about Maleficent had left a bitter taste in the saviour’s mouth. The redhead hadn’t actually confirmed that Regina and Mal had once been an item, but her coyishly delivered “ _well,_ i _t’s really not my place to say_ ” had in fact said more than enough.

With a groan, the sheriff dropped her legs from the table and launched the stress-ball through her open office door and into the corridor beyond.

She slumped over the desk, her head resting on her hands.

_Why is this bothering me so much?_

Emma had never been the jealous type; in fact, she loathed possessiveness.

In the past, if a guy had shown any sign of jealous behaviour, the blonde didn’t stick around. It wasn’t healthy, she knew that…

_So, then why do I feel like this?_

The sound of something hitting her desk startled the blonde and she lifted her head, puzzled to find the stress-ball now sitting on a file in front of her.

“You almost took my head off,” Snow White stood in the doorway to the sheriff’s office, a pile of books nestled under her left arm and a scowl on her face. “What’s going on?”

“Sorry,” Emma grumbled as she sluggishly sat back in her chair, swiping the ball from the desk.

“What’s wrong with you?” Snow asked, as she moved over to the desk and placed her books on top of a stack of Emma’s files. 

“What’s right with me?” The blonde mumbled bitterly, as she picked at some loose stitching on the stress-ball.

Snow frowned, her head tilting to one side as she eyed her daughter curiously.

“Is this about your trip to the past?” The darker haired woman folded her arms over her chest. “I hear you’re leaving in ten days.”

“Henry told you, huh?” Emma asked, tossing the ball into the air and catching it again.

“Yes, he did,” Snow nodded towards the pile of books she’d arrived with. “Which is why I’m here actually; considering we’ve got forewarning of your portal jump this time, I’m going to make sure that you’re entirely prepared.”

Emma took a pause from throwing the ball and eyed the books suspiciously.

She raised an eyebrow.

_At least it’s not a flip chart presentation._

“Thanks,” she said, and began to toss the ball into the air once more. “But that’s not what’s bothering me.”

“Oh?” Snow asked, stretching an arm out and intercepting Emma’s ball mid-flight.

Emma scowled at her mother, but Snow paid her daughter’s annoyance no heed.

“Then what’s wrong?” The teacher placed the stress-ball back on the desk. “What is it?”

The savour sighed heavily.

“It’s Regina,” she rolled her eyes and sat forward in her seat and pushed a hand through her hair. “No, it’s not; it’s me; I’m driving myself crazy.”

“Okay,” Snow’s frown deepened. “In what way?”

“Mom,” Emma paused for a second, considering her words. “Back in the Enchanted Forest, did Regina and Mal ever…you know…”

“What?”

“Did they ever have a… _thing_?”

“Are you asking if they courted?”

“If that’s what you want to call it?” Emma frowned. “Sure.”

“No,” Snow said flatly, but before her daughter could breathe a sigh of relief, the teacher continued. “It was more of a dalliance.”

“A dalliance?” Emma’s eyebrows shot to her hairline.

“Yes,” Snow nodded, then narrowed her eyes. “I guess in this world you’d call it ‘friends with benefits’”, she smiled, pleased with herself for the comparison. “Why’d you ask?”

“Regina and Mal were fuck buddies?” Emma got to her feet and ignoring her mother’s wince at her colourful language, she began to pace the space behind her desk. “Why am I just hearing about this now?”

“I don’t know,” Snow shrugged. “Everybody knows about it. Once my father was dead, they were hardly subtle,” she lowered her voice. “I mean, I once walked in on-“

“No. No!” Emma turned to face her mother, holding up her hands in a panic. “I don’t need to hear the details, thank you very much.”

Snow clamped her lips together and watched as Emma continued to pace.

“ _Everybody knows_ ,” the blonde scoffed. “I didn’t know,” she glared at Snow. “Why did I not know?”

“Is this what’s been bothering you?” Her mother asked. “Honey, it’s been over 30 years-”

“I know, I just-,” Emma sat back down heavily in her chair. “Why didn’t Regina tell me?”

“Well,” Snow moved round to perch against the desk next to her daughter. “Probably because it’s not important to her.”

“It is to me,” Emma sulked. “It matters.”

“What is it exactly that matters?” The darker haired woman enquired. “That Regina has a sexual past?”

“Of course not,” Emma rolled her eyes at the ridiculousness of the situation. It pained her to be having this conversation with her mother, but with Ruby in Oz and Belle in a magical coma, who else could she confide in? Granny?

“I get that Regina’s had sex before; it’s not that,” the saviour finally said, resigning herself to the fact that discussing her sex life with Snow White, truly was her only option.

_Fuck my life._

“It’s that she’s had sex with Mal?” Snow offered.

“It’s that she didn’t tell me about it,” Emma retorted glumly.

“Well,” Snow folded her arms over her chest again, worry lines forming on her brow. “Have you told Regina about all of your past, um…”

“ _Dalliances_?” Emma offered, digging her mother out of the verbal hole she’d dug herself; it appeared Snow was finding their conversation just as uncomfortable as the saviour was.

“Right,” Snow looked relieved.    

“No, but that’s different.”

“Why is it different?” Snow looked puzzled.

“Well, firstly, because they’re not here in Storybrooke.”

“And secondly?” Snow pressed.

“They weren’t women,” the blonde added, staring down at her desk, unable to meet her mother’s questioning gaze.

“So _that’s_ what this is really about…” Snow said with a sigh and this time, Emma’s gaze shot up to meet hers. “Oh, honey…”

“What?” The saviour scowled, slightly irritated by her mother’s patronising tone.

“You’re not jealous of Mal at all.”

“I’m not?”

“No,” Snow shook her head and fixed her daughter with a knowing expression. “You just feel threatened by her because of your lack of experience in being a lesbian.”

“Oh, my God,” Emma gaped, her face turning crimson. “We are _not_ having this conversation.”

“Emma, it’s okay,” Snow hoped off the desk, and straightened out the arms of her frumpy, lime-green cardigan; she was looking a little too pleased with herself for Emma’s liking. “It’s perfectly natural to have concerns about-”

“Mom!” Emma interrupted Snow, before she said something scarring. “If you don’t stop talking I swear to God-”

“Fine,” Snow said with a sigh and a roll of her eyes. “But if you won’t talk to me about it, at least make sure you speak to Regina,” she said, her tone all mother. “It’s never healthy to let these things fester.”

“Okay, alright, I’ll speak to her,” she held her hands up in surrender; maybe her mother had a point. “But in the meantime,” the sheriff’s gaze fell to the pile of books that Snow had brought with her. “Do you want to talk to me about what’s in those?”

xXx

Regina relaxed back in one of Mal’s oversized armchairs, a cup and saucer resting upon her knee. The mayor’s fleeting visit to see one of her oldest friends had now stretched to well over an hour, yet despite the time elapsed, the brunette felt hesitant to leave.

She felt comfortable there.

Mal had listened to the former queen’s worries about her pregnancy; she understood the brunette’s initial desire to have an abortion, heard her gripes about feeling smothered and not once did the dragon dismiss her concerns as being miserly or ridiculous.

Reginia felt understood.

“Sometimes I feel like I shouldn’t be doing this,” the brunette ran a hand over her abdomen. “Trying to save the baby, allowing other people to help.” She stared down, into her teacup. “What if this is my penance?”

“I used to think that too,” Mal was perched elegantly on her chesterfield couch opposite Regina; she took a sip from her second tumbler of scotch. “I thought that I somehow deserved to have Lily taken from me, because of all the hurt I’d caused.”

“And now?” Regina asked, her eyes searching the blondes features for an answer to her question.

“I have Lily now,” Mal shrugged, softly. “I’ve got my girl back and nothing terrible has happened as a consequence.”

“You believe you’ve already paid your penance,” Regina responded; it wasn’t a question.

“I like to think of our separation as time served,” a self-deprecating smile twitched at the dragon’s lips. “Maybe after all this time, you’ve served yours too.”   

Regina silently absorbed Maleficent’s words; maybe the dragon was right.

The ‘Mistress of all Evil’ had carried out some horrendous atrocities in her time, acts that certainly rivalled those committed throughout Regina’s reign.

_If Mal can be forgiven, maybe happiness for villains isn’t an impossibility after all._

“Are you happy?” Regina asked, voicing her inner thoughts and Mal took a moment to ponder the brunette’s question.

“I am,” the blonde finally said, before taking another sip of her scotch.

“Forgive me for saying this,” Regina frowned and softly shook her head, “but you don’t sound too convinced.”

“I guess that’s because I know there’ll always be a darkness in my heart,” the older woman shifted forward in her seat, swirling her scotch in its glass with the slightest movement of her wrist. “I don’t think people like us can ever be entirely happy.”

“What makes you say that?” Regina enquired, although she wasn’t sure she was ready to hear the answer.

“To be happy, would be to forget,” Mal spoke softly, a sadness in her tone; “to never remember all of the terrible things that we’ve done…” 

“And the people we hurt don’t deserve to be forgotten,” Regina added, solemnly; “you’re right.”

“But that doesn’t mean there’s no joy to be had,” the blonde looked poignantly at the brunette’s stomach. “Saving your child is the right thing to do, Regina.”

“I want to believe that,” the mayor still felt so uncertain.

“You may never be entirely free of that feeling of self-hatred, but there should always be room in your heart for love.” Mal drained the remaining scotch from her glass in a single gulp. “Surround yourself with it while you still can.”

With that, the wise old dragon stood and retreated further into the house, leaving Regina alone with her thoughts.

xXx

Emma flipped through a file on the town’s latest crime statistics and copied some of the figures into a spreadsheet on her computer; things sure had been quiet in Storybrooke of late.

Snow had left the station a couple of hours ago and despite Emma’s reaction to her mother’s advice about Regina, the blonde had to admit that she now felt a little better about herself.

She wasn’t becoming the kind of jealous partner that she loathed; what the saviour was feeling instead, was good old-fashioned inadequacy. It wasn’t a great place to be, admittedly, but Emma at least now had a handle on her problem with Mal.

_Which is a start…_

She and Mal were so different; the dragon was tall, elegant and classy and it was difficult for the saviour to comprehend that Regina could possibly be attracted to the both of them.

And yet, Emma had felt that attraction.

The sheriff’s new power had left no doubt in her mind that Regina wanted her, but what if that desire wore off? The brunette’s intermittently enforced ‘no touching rule’ was certainly building tension between them, but once that itch had been scratched, what then?

Mal was a being of ancient magic; she’d lived a long life, she could fly and breathe fire, so God knows what she was capable of in the bedroom.

_What if Regina gets bored?_

At the familiar sound of high-heels clicking against the linoleum, Emma looked up from her files. As soon as Regina stepped into view, the blonde shoved her concerns about Mal to the back of her mind.

“Hi,” the brunette said simply, a soft smile on her lips.

“Hey,” the sheer presence of the other woman caused a warmth to spread through Emma’s chest and she he pushed back from the desk and angled her chair towards the door. “I was going to head over to the mansion later. Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine,” the mayor took a few steps into Emma’s office, eying the report that lay open on the desk.  “I do hope I’m not disturbing any important police work.”

“Just a report I’m finishing up for my boss,” Emma shrugged and got to her feet, a teasing smile tugging at her lips. “We better make it quick though; she’s a bit of a hard-ass.”

Regina hummed in agreement, her smile broadening.  

“So, I hear,” she purred and stepped in closer to the blonde, tugging her forwards by the belt loops on her jeans. “I won’t tell your boss if you don’t.”

Emma was a little puzzled by the drastic shift in behaviour from the flustered Regina who had left the diner, to the cool and collected woman now standing before her. She didn’t have much time to ponder the issue however, as the mayor swiftly closed the space between them and captured the blonde’s lips with her own.

Temporarily stunned, a strangled moan escaped the sheriff’s throat before her brain caught up with her lips and she moved to deepen their kiss. It was passionate and emotion laden; the shockwave from which coursed through the blonde’s veins with a ferocity that left her breathless.

Regina must have sensed her surprise; Emma felt the brunette smiling, before she drew back to wipe the smudge of lipstick from the sheriff’s kiss bruised lips.  

“Not that I’m complaining,” Emma finally found her words, her gaze searching the brunette’s. “But what brought that on?”

“Oh, nothing,” Regina released her hold on the blonde’s jeans and turned to perch against the desk with a smirk. “You just happen to be very kissable, Miss Swan.”

“And what happened to keeping unnecessary touching to a minimum,” Emma frowned, but her tone was teasing. “You know, until I have a handle on my power?”

“Oops,” the brunette teased, shrugging a single shoulder.

“Oops?” Emma’s eyebrows shot to her hairline. “Ok, who are you and what have you done with Regina?” She joked, before her expression turned sombre. “Seriously, what’s going on with you? You seemed so upset earlier.”

“I was,” Regina nodded, her smile fading; “I am,” she sighed. “It’s just that knowing that you’ll be gone in ten days,” she dropped her gaze to her feet. “I thought we’d have more time to…” she faded off, unable to finish the sentence.

“Take things slowly?” Emma asked, closing the distance between them.

“To spend time together,” the mayor raised her head to look up at the blonde. “Between working on the plan, my pregnancy sickness and our jobs, there’s not going to be much time for-”

“This?” Emma asked, cupping Regina’s jaw and leaning down to place a gentle kiss to her lips. “We’ll make time,” the blonde said as she pulled back and tucked a strand of the mayor’s hair behind her ear. “But, that still doesn’t solve the issue of my new power.”

“Well,” Regina licked her lips, and Emma followed the movement closely. “Judging by the fact that we’re both still fully clothed, I’d say that’s starting to be less of a concern.”

“Oh yeah,” Emma looked down for affect. “You’re right,” she grinned. “Maybe we should remedy that.”

“Oh, no,” the brunette slipped out from beneath the blonde, just as she swooped down for another kiss. “I don’t think so.”

“Hey,” Emma said sulkily as she tuned to face the mayor. “What gives?”

“Despite the urgency of the matter, I will not allow our first time be a quick _fumble_ against your desk,” the brunette tugged on the arms of her wool coat to straighten out the creases.  

“But time is of the essence,” Emma joked, noting that the playful tone had not left Regina’s voice. “And besides, there are beds here,” the blonde waved an arm in the direction of the cells.

“In a prison cell,” the brunette raised her eyebrows. “Really?”

“Oh, come on,” the sheriff took a step closer to the brunette, a salacious grin on her face. “Don’t tell me you’ve never fantasised about it.”

“That may be the case, Miss Swan-”

“Wait,” Emma interrupted, her cocky smile replaced by a look of utter surprise. “You’ve really fantasised about it?”

“Considering you’re leaving me in ten days,” the brunette continued, ignoring the blonde’s question. “I’d like to take my time with you,” she said, a smile tugging at her own lips as she ran a finger over the sheriff’s belt buckle. “Does that sound so terrible?”

“Terrible?” Emma asked, her mouth suddenly feeling very dry. “Nope. That sounds way hotter, actually.”     

Regina laughed, shifting her hands to rest on the blonde’s hips.

“Emma, for reasons already discussed, I still don’t think that we should rush this,” she looked into the saviour’s eyes. “But I also see no reason for us to continue forward at this frustratingly glacial pace.”

“So,” Emma narrowed her eyes as she worked over the brunette’s words in her mind. “What you’re saying is… that the ‘no touching’ ban has now been lifted?”

“As of right now,” Regina smiled. “You know, Maleficent made me realise something earlier.”

“Maleficent?” The dragon’s name felt like a cold, hard slap to Emma’s face and she withdrew from the brunette’s embrace with the force of it.

“I’ve been so convinced that my problems with pregnancy were deserved, that I completely lost sight of the opportunity this baby presents,” Regina continued, seemingly oblivious to Emma’s reaction. “This past week, it’s felt like I’ve been dragged along for a cause. I haven’t been in control and this fear that I’m paying penance for my sins is exactly what’s been preventing me from taking hold of the reins.”   

“And Mal made you realise all of this?” Emma asked, trying desperately to keep the venom from her tone.

“Just speaking with her reminded me of who I once was, and how far I’ve come,” Regina explained. “Emma; if I didn’t deserve any happiness, then I wouldn’t have you, or Henry,” she took the blonde’s hands in hers. “This baby won’t be the sum of my happiness or my resounding happy ending; it will be an extension of the happiness I already have.”

Emma smiled back at the brunette, but internally, she held her emotions at bay. Positivity was rolling off the brunette in waves, and the blonde refused to taint it with her own unwarranted hostility towards Mal. 

It was a conversation they most certainly needed to have; but now was not the time.

TBC

Thanks for reading!

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews are always welcomed, but if you’re going to ask a question or make a comment that demands a response…please remember to sign in LOL! Be brave, I don’t bite.


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks heaps to the fabulous Loweze, for her speedy beta on this chapter :)

** Chapter 28 **

The Charmings’ loft was a hive of activity.

Whilst David took the afternoon shift at the sheriff’s station, the rest of the family worked tirelessly in the hopes that this time, the saviour would be entirely prepared for her journey into the past.

Henry, having just returned from school, was sat on the living room floor surrounded by piles of paper. Emma lay, sprawled out on the couch with her nose in a book and Snow nursed baby Neal in the armchair opposite. Regina had taken a break and was in the kitchen preparing snacks, whilst Zelena tampered with three ornate compact mirrors at the dining table, attempting to create a magical link. 

“So, I’ve been to Lake Nostos before?” Emma asked as she eyed an artist’s impression of a beautiful siren, perched on a rock. 

“That’s right,” Snow nodded, buttoning up her shirt. “But by then it wasn’t so much a lake,” the teacher frowned, “more like a pond.” She shook her head; “Cora somehow used its waters to create the portal that brought us back from the Enchanted Forest.”

“But hadn’t dad already killed the siren?” Emma frowned and held up the book to show her mother. “It says here: no Siren, no magical water,” she lowered the book back to her waist.

“Well, I don’t know how she did it, but it’s gone now.” Snow explained as she rested Neal against her shoulder and began to softly pat his back. “Your father had the dwarves check when we were under Pan’s curse; restorative water would’ve proved _pretty_ useful with all those awful monkeys flying around.”

“They’re beautiful, majestic creatures,” Zelena corrected as she hovered her hands over the mirrors before her, green magic emitting from her finger tips. “Your daughter should know,” the redhead glanced up and fixed the saviour with a devilish smirk; “she dated one.”

“You’re sure the water’s gone?” The blonde asked her mother, simply ignoring the wicked witch’s snipe; Emma had quickly learnt that if Zelena gleaned no reaction, she soon got bored.

“The death of a magical lake is gradual,” Regina explained as she re-entered the living room, carrying two plates of food. “Surface water recedes fairly quickly, however sources underground take much longer to dry,” she placed a plate containing corn chips and dip on the coffee table within Emma and Henry’s reach. “Mother told me that to create the portals, she used a divining spell to draw the remnants of the lake to the surface.”

“Cora used it all?” Emma asked, shifting her legs to allow the other woman to sit down.

“The amount of power required to create the two portals between worlds will most likely have drained the enchanted waters entirely, yes.” At Emma’s disappointed expression, the former queen smirked and quirked an eyebrow. “Did you honestly think you’d found a loop hole?”

“You never know,” Emma shrugged a single shoulder as the mayor took a seat beside her.

“Always the optimist,” Regina sighed with a smile, before resting her plate of food on the arm of the couch and tucking into it with gusto; she moaned, unabashed, around her first bite. “So, good.”

“Mom, they’re just apples,” Henry chuckled at his mother’s enthusiasm.

“With peanut butter,” the brunette added, as if it made all the difference in the world.

Regina’s morning sickness seemed to have subsided over the past week, only to be replaced with a ravenous appetite. Much to the sheriff’s disappointment however, junk food was still off the menu.  

“Trust you to crave something relatively healthy,” Emma curled her top lip in distaste, reaching for the plate of chips on the coffee table.

“I’m not craving something healthy, I’m craving something sweet.” Regina scowled, when, as if on cue, Emma shovelled a handful of corn chips into her own mouth. “Your metabolism, Miss Swan, is truly remarkable.”

“Hey,” Emma feigned annoyance around a mouthful of chips, before cheekily draping her legs across the other woman’s lap. “I work out.” 

“Really,” the former queen responded nonchalantly, her gaze drifting down the saviour’s toned frame. She quickly returned her attention her food. “I can’t that say I’ve noticed.”

 _Oh, she’s noticed,_ the saviour thought to herself as she relaxed back into the couch cushions with a knowing smirk. If the past week had taught the sheriff anything, it was that Storybrooke’s mayor was incredibly handsy and Emma had decided, unashamedly, that she didn’t mind at all.

Things had been progressing steadily between the two women, and the slow escalation of intimacy between them really was helping to dampen Emma’s feelings of inferiority; the brunette was always so responsive to her touch.

Between work, planning and pregnancy exhaustion, finding time for just the two of them had been hard, but they’d made it work as best they could. Stolen kisses and heated make-out sessions aside however, with the deadline of her departure fast approaching, the blonde was now ready to turn their PG13 rating up a notch. Today, Emma wanted to make it clear to Regina that she was at the top of her pre-travel ‘to-do’ list.

The saviour frowned.

_Okay, so maybe I won’t word it quite like that…_

Mentally shaking herself from the intensifying fantasy of things to come, Emma refocussed her efforts into reading.

“So, tell me about this siren,” she flexed her socked feet against Regina’s thigh. “What’s her deal?”

“Well,” Snow stood and started to pace, continuing to rub Neal’s back. “Legend has it, that sirens would lure men to their deaths, by showing them something or someone they truly desired.”

“Men, huh?” A grin appeared on Emma’s face and she nudged Regina playfully with her foot.

“Do try to take this seriously, dear,” Regina fixed the blonde with a withered expression, but there was still mirth in her eyes. “From what I understand, sirens can be _quite_ convincing.”

“If one showed you a grilled cheese you’d be tempted, admit it.” Henry quipped from his position on the floor and soft laughter erupted around the room.

“Or a bear claw,” Snow added as she placed Neal back in his cot, “a burger from Granny’s…”

“My lasagne,” Regina interjected, joining in with the teasing.

“After a few days in the Enchanted Forest, a roll of toilet paper may suffice.” Zelena muttered from the table, whilst still focussing on the mirrors before her. 

That thought apparently presented quite a comical image for Henry, whose laughter increased tenfold and despite their joking being at her expense, Emma found herself laughing along.

There was something about that moment which felt incredibly domestic to the blonde. These people were a family and despite their many differences, they were all working together to save Regina’s unborn child; the thought truly warmed the saviour’s heart.

_They’re my family._

As the joviality died down and Henry wiped at his eyes, something suddenly occurred to the blonde:

“What if I already have everything I desire?” The sheriff voiced her thoughts, not even realising the words had left her mouth, until she looked up to see Regina’s dumbfounded expression.

The room fell silent.

The blonde blushed under the scrutiny but maintained eye contact with the brunette. She realised she really had meant what she’d said; for the first time in forever, Emma Swan felt truly happy.

“Emma, I -” Regina started.

“Once you two have stopped gazing longingly into each other eyes,” Zelena interrupted, approaching from the kitchen armed with the three compact mirrors. “I need you to stare longingly into these instead.”

“Zelena,” Snow scolded the interruption through clenched teeth. “They were having a _moment_.”

“What?” The redhead asked, completely oblivious to her own rudeness as she handed a compact each to the stunned blonde and brunette and kept one for herself.

“It’s fine, Snow,” Regina said with a casual wave of her hand; the mayor was more than used to her sister’s brand of tact. The brunette sat up a little straighter in her seat and as she turned the compact over in her hands, realisation dawned; she looked up at her sister, her eyes wide. “Zelena, is this what I think it is?” 

“A symbol of my fabulousness?” Zelena asked as she gazed at her own reflection in her compact, flicking her hair over her shoulders with a smug smile adorning her lips. “Why yes, Regina, I do believe it is.”

“You’re kidding?” The former queen opened the compact and green magic swirled behind the mirror inside.

“What?” Emma asked, swinging her legs from the couch and noticing that both her mother and Henry bore the same puzzled expression.

“You don’t feel it?” Regina asked, looking into the mirror, before turning her head to face the blonde. “Can’t you sense the magic?”

“Well, I can feel magic sure, but…” Emma frowned and with a sigh, she wrapped her fingers around the metal case and took a deep breath. She closed her eyes to centre herself and suddenly: “Oh, my God!” The saviour’s eyes flew open and she stared at the brunette in awe. “I feel you,” she opened the compact to see Regina’s reflection staring right back at her. “I see you!” She looked up at Zelena. “You actually did it?”

“Indeed, I did,” Zelena beamed. “Care to take them for a spin?”

xXx

Zelena remained at the loft with the conduit mirror, whilst Emma and Regina teleported all over Storybrooke. At the redhead’s insistence, the two widened their distance from each other with every single poof.

“Dragon Slayer to Fire Ball. Dragon Slayer to Fire Ball. Do you read me? Over.” The saviour spoke into the compact and grinned when she saw Regina roll her eyes.

“ _Those names are even more ridiculous than the last ones you gave us_ ,” the brunette’s reflection glowered back at the blonde. “ _And is making radio noises absolutely necessary_?”

“Too much?” Emma joked.

“ _You’re a child_ ,” Regina huffed, yet a smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

“And you’re no fun,” Emma pouted, before her expression sobered. “So, it appears to work,” she said, a tight smile forming on her lips.

“ _The connection works here_ ,” Regina sighed. “ _Mirror magic can cross realms, but there’s still no accounting for its effectiveness across time_.”

“Yeah, about that,” Emma tilted the mirror to show the former queen that she was standing at the town line. “How about we put the strength of the connection to a test?”

“ _You want to test the validity of a magic spell, in a land without magic?_ ” The brunette asked incredulously. “ _That’s idiotic, even coming for you_.”

“Stranger things have happened,” Emma reasoned as she held open her palm and mentally summoned the sorcerers scroll; it appeared in her hand in an instant. “You’re not even curious?”

“ _Curious_?” Regina shook her head. “ _Emma, Zelena’s magic is not strong enough to_ -”

“I’m not talking about Zelena’s magic,” the blonde interrupted, as she stepped up to the line, still looking poignantly into the mirror.

“ _You’re talking about us_ ,” Regina’s tongue flicked out to wet her lips, and understanding touched her features. “ _You’re talking about testing your power; our connection._ ”

“That’s what the communication depends upon, isn’t it?” Emma questioned.

“ _Our connection is **magical** , Emma,_” Regina protested, weakly.

“We don’t really know what our connection is, Regina,” the blonde pressed. “And besides, not all magic dies once it crosses the line,” she waved the scroll in front of the compact, so that the mayor could see it. “This works.”

“ _Because it was designed to_ ,” the brunette argued, before sighing heavily. “ _You know what? If you want to test it, fine; there’s no harm I suppose. Just -_ “

Having being given the go-ahead, the saviour stepped across the line and effectively severed their conversation.

“Woah,” she stumbled, feeling light headed, as her magic started to leave her body. The blonde quickly righted herself and gazed down into the mirror, to see only her own reflection staring back.

“Regina?” Emma shook the compact and knocked it with her hand, the way she would a faulty electrical device. “You still there?”

A couple of beats of silence passed.

“Well, shit,” Emma’s shoulders sagged in defeat; she may not have been confident it would work, but she’d at least been hopeful.

The more time the saviour had spent researching the darker side of the Enchanted Forest, the more nervous she had become; it appeared her previous ignorance had in fact been a blessing.

There would still have been no way of knowing for sure if the mirrors would communicate across time, but their connection working in a land without magic, would, at the very least, have provided Emma with a much needed confidence booster.

Just as the defeated saviour was about to cross back over the line, she heard Regina’s voice:

“- _don’t be annoyed when_ _I tell you that I told you so_.”

Puzzled, Emma looked down at the device and this time, it was the brunette’s equally mystified expression that greeted her.

“ _Emma_?”

“Regina?” The saviour said, excitedly. “Regina can you hear me?”

“ _Emma_?” The brunette’s frown shifted to an eyeroll. “ _And we’ve gotten cut off_. _That’s just perfect,_ ” she muttered to herself, before staring straight into the mirror. “ _I told you so, Swan_.”

“Why the hell can’t she hear me?” The blonde’s frown deepened – and that’s when she heard it: Emma heard her own voice sounding through Regina’s device.

“ _Regina, can you hear me?”_

“ _Emma_?” The brunette looked startled.

“ _Well, shit_ ,” as the curse the blonde had uttered moments earlier echoed through her own device, the penny finally dropped.

“There’s a delay!” The sheriff practically leapt back across the line, to find Regina materialising before her. “It worked, but there’s a delay!”

“I know,” Regina smiled back, looking equally elated. “I don’t quite believe it.”

“Holy shit!” The blonde laughed and shoving the scroll and compact in her jacket pockets she reached for the brunette, lifting her from the ground.

“Emma,” the mayor released a surprised laugh; she gripped on to the arms of the sheriff’s jacket as she was gently swung around in a circle.

“Sorry,” the saviour smiled shyly, blushing at her own behaviour as she deposited the former queen back on her feet. “It’s just,” she caught her breath, her hands dropping to her sides, “it works!”

“I know,” Regina smiled broadly as she rested their foreheads together; she took the saviour’s hands in hers and interlocked their fingers. “That’s some power you’re packing there, Miss Swan.”

Emma laughed and placed a kiss to the other woman’s lips, before drawing her in towards her chest and enveloping her in a fierce hug.

“It’s going to work,” the blonde muttered against the mayor’s cool cheek, as she nuzzled her nose into her dark hair, and closed her eyes. “I just know it; it’s going to work.” 

xXx

“I just don’t see why I have to be here,” Emma complained as she followed Regina towards the barn at Zelena’s farm. “All I have to do is step through a portal, why the hell do I have to rehearse that?”

Two hours had passed, and the saviour’s positive mood had dampened considerably.

Having spent the past week in what she could only describe as a ‘Regina induced haze’, the blonde had completely forgotten how they’d agreed to spend the early part of their evening.

Not being the most organised person in the world (or from the Enchanted Forest), the saviour had entrusted much of the practical side planning and organisation for her departure, to her mother. This was a decision that the blonde had lived to regret however, once she was informed that her mother had arranged a ‘dress rehearsal’ for the full moon departure.

_Like we’re all in a school play, or something._

What seemed even more ridiculous to Emma, was the fact that when she joked about the absurdity of her mother’s idea to Regina, the brunette informed her that she actually thought a dress-rehearsal was a good idea.

_A good idea? What the hell?_

Emma had read somewhere that whilst pregnant, a woman’s brain temporarily shrinks in size; the saviour had concluded that this could be the only explanation for the former queen’s instant approval of a Snow White idea.

“We’ve been through this, Emma,” Regina said quietly, through a stiff smile which she directed at Ursula and Mal who were already inside the barn. “Your energy will make a difference to the circle and the accuracy of the spell. Do you _want_ to end up in the Jurassic age?”

“No,” Emma replied sulkily, kicking at a rock on the floor with her boot.

“Good,” Regina’s politician-smile broadened as the other witches started to make their way over towards them. “Then stop behaving like a petulant child; this will only take a couple of hours and then I promise,” she angled her head towards the blonde, her curtain of dark hair shielding her expression from the others and lowered her voice to a breathy whisper; “I’ll make it worth your while.” The brunette’s lips twisted into a seductive, teasing smile, before she turned her attention back to the other women and schooled her features. “Mal, Ursula, thank you so much for coming.” 

“Regina, dear,” Maleficent smiled as she reached the brunette’s side, and leaning in gracefully, placed a kiss to both of her cheeks. “Saviour,” the dragon offered Emma a curt nod, which the sheriff forced herself to return.

Truthfully, Mal was one of the main reasons the saviour didn’t want to be at the rehearsal. 

For Regina’s sake, Emma had tried to quash her resentment towards the older blonde, but there was just something about Mal’s demeanour around the mayor that always drew the saviour’s animosity to the surface. Their interactions always seemed so effortless and from the dragon’s side, the saviour thought there was _always_ more touching involved than was necessary. 

In that moment, the blonde wondered if Maleficent was quite as hands-on with all of her friends.

She shifted her focus to the second witch who was standing before them.

_I guess I’ll get an answer to that question tonight._

“Regina,” Ursula greeted the mayor cordially and Emma noted that the sea-witch bore an expression which reflected perfectly how she herself was feeling; it appeared that the saviour wasn’t the only person attending the rehearsal under duress. “I thought you’d be fatter.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” the former queen responded without missing a beat, her smile still professionally fixed in place.

It was clear to the blonde that the mayor was biting back a more cutting retort because she needed Ursula’s help, however the fact that the sea-witch was already so blatantly exploiting the former queen’s weakness was a cause for concern. 

“Sorry I’m late!” Snow White chimed, cutting through the tension with her usual brand of unwavering cheeriness as she entered the barn pushing Neal in his stroller. “Is everybody ready?”

“Can we get this thing started?” Zelena said in way of greeting as she entered the barn behind the brunette, pushing Robin in her pram. “I’ve a Judge Judy marathon to watch.”

“Is having a baby the new black?” Ursula snarked, a distasteful expression on her face as she eyed baby Robin in her pram, “because if it is, I didn’t get the memo.”

“You must be the Sea Witch,” Zelena smiled with blatantly false sincerity as she came to a stop in front of the other women. “It’s funny, you know,” she ran her narrowed gaze over Ursula from head to toe, before turning her head to address her sister; “I actually expected gills.”

Emma barely stifled her laugh at Zelena’s perfectly timed tactlessness, however her mirth was cut short when she felt Regina’s hands griping at her forearm.

“Oh, no.”

“What?” The blonde asked, staring down at her appendage being held in a vice grip, before following the brunette’s anxious gaze across to the entrance of the barn.

“Mom, what the hell?” Emma voiced, upon seeing Henry entering, struggling under the weight of Snow’s rehearsal paraphernalia. 

“Your mother’s brought the flip chart,” Regina stated, dread coating her expression. “What the hell did you let me agree to?”

_Wait…_

“What?!”

xXx

Twenty minutes had now passed, and the group had been begrudgingly herded like cattle into position, by Snow White with her clipboard and whistle.

Maleficent, Ursula and Zelena (or the Bitches of Eastwick, as Emma was now referring to them) were being taken through their paces, whilst Regina hovered on the periphery, looking incredibly uncomfortable.

Emma watched the rehearsal from the side lines feeling torn; although she did take a little enjoyment from the fact that the mayor looked to be regretting her decision to leave Snow White in charge, it didn’t change the fact that she had to be there too.

Participating in a dress rehearsal wasn’t even close to how the blonde had envisioned them spending their evening; in fact, what Emma had had in mind, didn’t involve being dressed at all. 

She looked at her watch.

The night was still relatively young.

_All is not lost…_

“Miss Swan.”

Startled by the proximity of the male voice behind her, Emma spun to find Gold with an expectant look on his face.

“Jesus, Gold,” Emma took a step backwards and placed a hand over her rapidly beating heart. “You almost gave me a heart attack,” she scowled at the pawnbroker in his pinstriped suit. “I thought you weren’t coming.”

“Oh, _this_ I had to see,” Gold said with a smirk as he came to stand alongside the saviour, his amused gaze trained on the circus before them. “It all looks rather civil, considering.”

“Shouldn’t you be in charge?” Emma nodded towards the group of witches and she caught Regina’s eye; the brunette’s narrowed her gaze suspiciously at Gold. “It’s your spell.”

“I briefed your mother yesterday and she seems to be doing a fine job. Besides,” he turned to face the blonde, “we have more pressing matters to discuss.”

“We do?” Emma turned her head to look at him, a frown upon her face.

“We have a deal, remember?”

“Right,” the sheriff said with a sigh as she shifted to face the man fully, shoving her hands in her jean back-pockets. “You want me to deliver something. “

“A document.”

“Containing what?”

“You have your secrets, Miss Swan, and I have mine,” he narrowed his gaze. “If the seal is tampered with-”

“Fine,” Emma held a hand up in surrender. “Am I delivering this top secret document to you?” Emma shook her head, before clarifying. “The younger, scalier version of you, I mean.”

“Not directly, no,” he said firmly. “That would present too much of a risk.”

“Then to who?”

“Not to _whom_ , Miss Swan,” Gold answered cryptically, “to where.” He clasped his hands together in front of him. “There’s a cave, a mere stone’s throw from Lake Nostos, within which you will find a stone altar.”

“That doesn’t sound creepy at all,” the blonde muttered.

“Underneath the altar, there’s a switch,” Gold continued, ignoring the saviour’s childish remarks, “which will open a door-”

“Don’t you guys just have a mail service I could use?”

“You will leave the document inside the doorway,” he pressed on, “and close it again, using the very same switch.”

“That’s it?” Emma asked, her features twisting with suspicion. “I just leave it there and go?”

“You were expecting something with a little more ceremony?”

“Well,” the blonde’s frown deepened as she shrugged, “it’s you, so kinda, yeah.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” Gold turned back to face the group. “I’m sure you’ll have your fill of excitement when retrieving water from Lake Nostos,” an almost-smile tugged at his thin lips. “Whatever it is that you plan on using it for.”

Emma eyed the older man suspiciously; she understood Regina’s desire not to reveal her pregnancy to Gold, but there was something about the way he referred to the lake that raised the saviour’s hackles.

Before she had a chance to question him, he changed the subject.

“Mayor Mill’s looks rather pale, don’t you think?”    

xXx

Before Emma could even reach Regina’s side, Maleficent had conjured a bottle of water and a bench for the brunette to sit on. The elder blonde now perched on the floor in front of the recovering woman and the saviour noted, with some distaste, that Mal’s hands were resting on Regina’s bare knees.

Instinctively, the blonde rushed over to the mayor’s side, sitting as close as humanly possible to the brunette and draping an arm over her shoulders.

“Regina,” the blonde dipped her head to look into the former queen’s eyes. “What’s wrong? Do you need some air?” The saviour threw a glance towards the barn’s exit and Regina flowed her gaze, to see Gold ambling his way towards it.

“You’re crowding me,” the brunette said breathily and shifted both her shoulders and knees to signify her discomfort to the other women; both Mal and Emma took the hint and shifted backwards to give the former queen some space.

“I just came over a light headed, that’s all,” she took a sip of water from the bottle Mal had summoned. “What was Gold doing here?”

“He just wanted to discuss the deal,” Emma said casually, before returning the conversation to more pressing matters. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” Regina took another gulp of water. “It’s passing.”

“Maybe we should take a break,” Snow appeared behind Mal and looked down at the former queen, concern creasing her brow.

“I’m fine,” the brunette protested weakly.

“Regina, maybe you _should_ sit for a spell?” Maleficent pressed. “You know I’m not usually one to agree with Snow, but you do look awfully pale, dear,” she tilted her head to one side. “When was the last time you ate something?”

Regina looked thoughtful and Emma realised that she hadn’t seen the brunette eat anything since the apples she’d snacked on hours earlier.

“If you have to think about it, the answer is too long ago,” the elder blonde said a little sternly as she got to her feet. “You really need to take better care of yourself,” Mal scalded the brunette. “I’m going to magic you up some food,” she said, rolling her sleeves up to her elbows to signify she meant business.

“Thank you,” Regina smiled weakly up at her friend.

“Not a problem,” Mal said, gently touching her fingers to the brunette’s cheek, before turning to tower over the teacher behind her. “Snow,” she said irritably. “We’re taking that break.” 

As the taller blonde sashayed away, Emma couldn’t help but scowl after her.

_What the hell was that?_

It had become apparent to the sheriff that evening, that at every given opportunity the dragon lady had to touch the brunette, she’d taken it. There seemed to be something incredibly possessive about the way Maleficent positioned herself around and spoke to Regina, and the saviour didn’t like it, one bit.

“She’s very _hands-on_ today,” Emma grumbled, voicing her thoughts now that the other blonde was out of earshot.

“Oh, that’s just Mal,” Regina responded with a sigh, as she summoned her purse and pulled out a container of prenatal vitamins. “She’s always been tactile; I barely even notice it anymore.”

_Ping._

Emma’s eyes narrowed.

_Did Regina just lie to me?_

But there was something else that drew the blonde’s attention.

“What’s that?” She asked, nodding her head towards a decoratively covered book, which the mayor had tucked in her purse.

“Mother’s spell book,” Regina responded, lifting it from its leather confines and turning it over in her hands. “I brought it to give to Ursula, but she told me she’d changed her mind,” she released a mirthless laugh, “if you can believe that.”

“You don’t?” Emma frowned.

“Oh, I’m pretty sure that somebody else influenced her decision,” Regina raised her eyebrows knowingly as the dragon slinked back over towards them, brandishing a large a plate of hard cheeses, grapes and bread.  

“Mal,” Emma muttered her conclusion bitterly.

_Of course, it fucking was._

_xXx_

“Ok, everyone,” Snow yelled from the centre of the barn, her clipboard held above her head like a museum tour guide would an umbrella. “Let’s take a quick break, do one final run through and then we can all go home.”

“Oh, thank the Gods!” Zelena exclaimed as she strode over towards her daughter’s stroller. “I thought it would never end.”

“You’re not the only one,” Emma muttered to herself as she watched the proceedings from the bench.

The saviour still wasn’t entirely convinced that she needed to be there at all; so far all she’d had to do was stand in the middle of a circle. To the blonde, her attendance seemed entirely pointless and sitting around with her thumb up her ass was only adding to her agitation.    

An hour had passed since the mayor’s dizziness had temporarily put their rehearsal on hold and the saviour had been quietly seething ever since. In that time, the blonde had done nothing but watch the ‘ _Regina and Mal’_ show.

The saviour knew she was being childish; _Regina is coming home with **me** , she has feelings for **me**. _ Yet despite how many times in the past hour the blonde had tried to convince herself of that, it didn’t change the fact that Mal was quite blatantly all over the brunette and the mayor was doing absolutely nothing to discourage her behaviour.

Emma was convinced the brunette had lied to her earlier.

 _Tactile, my ass_ ; the saviour hadn’t once seen the dragon touch Ursula.

But if that really was the case; if Regina really had noticed the extra attention she was receiving from Mal, it begged the question: why wasn’t the brunette doing anything to stop it?

_Does Regina like the attention?_

“Five minutes, people!” Snow White yelled as she left the group to attend to Neal and Emma watched as the horde of cackling witches mocked her mother once her back was turned; they threw fake salutes and exchanged sly looks.

Their high-school like behaviour was making Emma’s blood boil.

What angered the blonde the most however, was that yet again Regina did nothing to deter them. Instead, the brunette rolled her eyes and laughed along at their antics; not once did she come to Snow White’s defence.

As Maleficent placed a hand on the mayor’s lower back and practically draped herself over the brunette to whisper something which was _apparently_ _hilarious_ in her ear, the saviour finally snapped.

“Screw this,” Emma muttered as she crossed the barn, moving towards the tightly knit group of witches with a fake smile plastered on her face. “Hey,” she said as she reached Regina’s side. “What’s so funny?”

Regina looked a little startled.

Emma placed her hand on the brunette’s hip, only to have her stiffen and pull away.

_What the hell?_

“Oh, we were just discussing old times,” Ursula smiled at the saviour, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“Torturing innocents, burning down villages, that kind of thing?” The sheriff asked, poker-faced.

“Emma!” Regina turned to the blonde aghast, and the saviour could practically feel the brunette’s glare burning holes into the side of her head.

“I’m beginning to understand what Regina see’s in you, Saviour,” Mal purred, a coquettish smile twitching on her full lips. Emma simply frowned back at her, confused as to how sarcastic remarks that were intended to wound, had only won her favour with the fedora wearing witch.

“Emma, a word,” Regina spoke through gritted teeth, slicing through the sheriff’s confusion with a sudden iciness of her tone. “Outside.”

“Gladly,” the blonde responded haughtily, matching the former queen’s manner; as far as the saviour was concerned, the mayor had a lot more to answer for than she did; “Lead the way.”

xXx

Regina burst through the barn doors and in to the night; a storm was gathering in the distance. Wind whipped around the former queen as she spun on her heel and glared at the approaching blonde, her darkened expression akin to the rumbling clouds on the horizon.

“Just what in the hell do you think you’re doing?” The brunette launched her attack as the saviour drew to a stop before her.

“Me?” Emma countered, her response unexpectedly hostile and Regina was temporarily taken aback. “I was coming to my mother’s defence, which is more than I can say for you.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Regina raised her chin defiantly, the saviour’s words slicing a little too close for comfort. “Your mother doesn’t need defending.”

“But she does deserve your respect,” Emma snapped, moving to stand closer to the brunette so they were almost nose to nose, “and so do I, damn it.” Regina thought she glimpsed hurt in the blonde’s eyes, but they quickly clouded over with anger.

Emma turned sharply to put some distance between them, pushing a hand through her windswept hair.

“So now I’ve disrespected you too?” Regina spoke to the blondes turned back, crossing her arms over her chest. “Evidently I’m having a busy night.”

“You’ve been acting differently since the minute we got here,” Emma whipped back around to face the brunette.

“Oh?” The mayor raised a single eyebrow, “how so?”

“Ursula’s been a bitch to you all night and not once have you defended yourself.”

“I’m biding my time, dear,” she frowned, “and I fail to see how that has any bearing on-”

“Mal,” Emma snapped, interrupting the brunette mid-flow.

“What about Mal?”

“She’s been all over you like a rash,” Emma snapped, “and don’t pretend you haven’t noticed, Regina, because I know when you’re lying.”

“So that’s what this is about,” the brunette sneered; “you’re jealous.”

“It’s not about me being jealous,” the blonde spat. “It’s about you not doing a single thing to discourage it.”

“Let me explain something to you Emma; something that you appear to have overlooked,” Regina closed the distance between them this time. “The women in there have not only agreed to help with a ritual that will send you back in time – but they have to be involved in bringing you home.”

“Well, that makes it alright then, doesn’t it?” Emma scoffed in the brunette’s face. “May as well let her fuck you; you know, as long as I get home safe and sound.” 

Regina gaped at the blonde. The saviour’s words felt like a literal slap to the face; they were delivered with a venom the brunette didn’t know the sheriff even possessed.

“I don’t need to listen to this,” Regina finally responded, pushing past the other woman and making her way back towards the barn. Tears stung her eyes, but she was damned if she’d allow the blonde to see how much those hurtful words had affected her.

“Oh no,” Emma grabbed a hold of the mayor’s wrist and tugged her backwards. “You don’t get to storm off this time. This is all on you,” she looked poignantly at the brunette, her tone resolute. “You have to tell Mal about us, Regina.”

_How can Emma not see? How can she not understand?_

“Emma,” the brunette sagged slightly, suddenly feeling helpless; “any sign of weakness that I show them-”.

“So, that’s what I am to you, is it?” Emma released her grip on the brunette’s wrist; recoiling as if she’d been burnt, she took a stumbling step backwards, “a weakness?”

“That’s not what I meant-” Regina reached out for the blonde, quickly realising her mistake, but Emma retreated further form her grasp.

_How can I get her to understand?_

“You know what?” The saviour shook her head, a mirthless laugh falling from her lips as she continued to back away. “I’m the one that’s leaving this time.”

“Emma, wait!” The mayor took several hasty steps towards the blonde, but it was too late; the saviour disappeared in cloud of smoke, just as the first droplets of cool rain started to fall.

“What have I done?”

“What are you doing, you mean,” Mal appeared at the open barn door, pulling her suit jacket around body to shield herself from the wind and rain. “Come on back inside, Regina; you’ll catch your death out here.”

_How did it even come to this?_

The brunette turned her sorrowful gaze on Maleficent and shook her head softly; she’d been trying so hard to appease her old friend, that she’d lost sight of who was really important.

 “I’m sorry, Mal, I can’t,” the brunette stood up a little straighter, squared her shoulders and raised her arms in readiness to leave. “I need to be with Emma now.” 

With a wave of her hands, Regina left her past at the barn and finally followed her heart.

“Finally,” Mal rolled her eyes, before closing the barn door and returning to the others; “it appears that the lovebirds have flown the nest; shall we call it a night?”

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that those pesky plot bunnies have been rounded up, what’s say we up the rating on the next chapter?  
> More to come soon!
> 
> Oh, and if any of ya’ll are going to the Enchanted Con in Birmingham this year, please be sure to say hello (I don’t bite)! 
> 
> I’m sure I’ll be fairly easy to find: I’m the tall, blonde, pregnant one ;)
> 
> TTFN *waves*.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay guys; I’m highly susceptible to cringing, so writing chapters with sex scenes always takes me a bit longer LOL!
> 
> Thank you to Loweze for her beta and suggestions on this chapter; you’re a bloody star!
> 
> Goes without saying, this chapter is probably NSFW….

** Chapter 29 **

“Screw Mal.”

The saviour materialised in her kitchen, hit the light switch and immediately opened the refrigerator door.

Grabbing a beer, the blonde twisted off the cap and took a long swig in the hopes that the cool, amber liquid would temper the fiery rage coiling in her belly.

It didn’t.

She kicked the refrigerator door closed, tossed the cap in the trash and began to pace.

It wasn’t Mal, Emma was angry at, not really; she knew the older blonde didn’t have all the facts. As far as the dragon knew, Regina was a free and single, _so why shouldn’t she continue to make passes?_ It wasn’t as if the brunette had been doing anything to discourage the other woman’s behaviour.

_“Any sign of weakness…”_

The blonde scoffed.

“That’s some bullshit.”

Either Regina was lying, or she was holding something back.

Emma didn’t know Mal very well, but she had a hard time believing that the dragon was fickle enough that she’d risk the life of the baby, even if she did find out that Regina was in a relationship with the saviour; especially, considering what happened to her own child.

But then that was something else the saviour had realised; she, herself had staked a claim on Regina’s heart when truthfully, the pair had never actually discussed what they were to one another now.

_Girlfriends? A fling? Friends with benefits?_

The magical connection between them both had provided the blonde with some reassurance about the brunette’s feelings towards her, but not her intentions.

A week and a half of fooling around, does not ‘exclusivity’ make.

_Could I really be so wrong?_

A knock at the front door disturbed Emma’s pacing and her deepening self-doubt was quickly replaced with annoyance.

She was _not_ in the mood for company.

The sheriff gulped down another mouthful of beer, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and stalked towards the door through the darkened foyer; ready to give whomever it was a piece of her mind. The blonde’s rebuke however, died on her lips when she flung open the door to find Regina on the door step, looking far less than refined.

“What the hell happened to you?” Emma asked, surprise evident in both her tone and expression.

The mayor stood on the porch, dripping wet from head to toe; despite the stormy weather, she wasn’t wearing her coat and her expensive, suede pumps were coated in mud.

“May I come in?”

Emma wordlessly stepped to one side to allow the bedraggled woman entry, her eyes settling on the muddy puddle which was forming around the brunette’s feet.

“Seriously, Regina, I only left a few minutes ago. What in the hell happened?”

“The heaven’s opened and then I teleported into your neighbour’s gladioli’s,” she said with a defeated sigh as she plucked at the drenched fabric of her burgundy pencil dress, a grimace settling over her features.

“You what?” Emma twisted and peered through the window adjacent to the door and sure enough, the porch light illuminated the driveway space enough to see that her neighbours flowerbed was now a trampled mess. She spun back sharply to face the brunette a scowl on her brow. “Regina, what the hell?”

“My aim was a little off,” the brunette squared her shoulders and raised her chin in an apparent attempt to reclaim some dignity.

“A _little_ off?” Emma’s eyebrows rose.

“I was upset,” the mayor’s shoulders now sagged forwards. “It’s the hormones,” she sighed. “Look, Emma, I came here to apologise.”

“Oh, so now you’re actually admitting you did something wrong?” The saviour crossed her arms over her chest as best she could whilst still holding a beer bottle. She wasn’t exactly sure exactly what poofing into a flowerbed had to do with pregnancy hormones, but that question could wait; there were more pressing matters to discuss.

“Emma, please,” the brunette clenched her fists at her side, her eyes pleading with the blonde’s. “Will you at least let me explain?”

The blonde stared down the former queen through narrowed eyes; the brunette really did look a sorry state.

“Fine,” Emma finally responded as she took another sip of beer and strode past the other woman towards the kitchen. “But can you at least dry yourself off first? Being mad at you when you look like that, feels like kicking a puppy.”

_And I don’t want you to get sick_ , she internalised; cursing herself immediately after, for even caring.

As the sheriff removed her leather jacket and draped it over the back of a dining chair, she sensed Regina using her own magic and as expected, when she turned to face the other woman, she was back to her usual put-together self. 

“Alright,” the saviour said, as she hopped up to take a seat on the kitchen counter, cradling the beer bottle between her thighs. “I’m all ears.”

Regina had moved a couple of paces into the kitchen and now hovered awkwardly by the corner of the dining table, wringing her fingers together. The mayor’s blatant and uncharacteristic anxiety unnerved the blonde, who attempted unsuccessfully to wash her own worries away with another swig of beer.

_What the hell is she going to say?_

“Emma, I’m sorry.” After what felt to the sheriff like an eternity, Regina eventually spoke; dropping her gaze to her fidgeting hands. “My behaviour at the barn tonight was unacceptable and I apologise if I upset you; it was never my intention.”

Once the apology was out, the blonde noticed the brunette’s shoulders relax a little…but nothing more was said.

_Is that it?_

Emma’s concern swiftly faded when she realised that Regina’s nerves were born of having to make an apology in the first place and not due to the divulging of some terrible truth.

_Seriously?_

“Wow,” the saviour snarked as she placed her beer on the counter next to her and dropped to the floor. When Regina lifted her gaze in response, her confusion was evident. “You didn’t even look at me when you said that.”

“Emma, I-” the brunette looked instantly remorseful.

“Look, you clearly suck at apologies, so let me make this simple for you; I _am_ upset.” The blonde stalked forward, closing some of the space between them. “You said I make you _weak_ , Regina,” she stared into the brunette’s eyes for a beat. “How the hell did you expect me to react to that?”

“That’s not what I said,” the brunette shook her head, her eyes wide.

“You said any sign of weakness-.”

“I know what I said, but that’s not how I meant it; that’s just…how you took it.”

“So, now it’s my fault?”

“Emma, please!” The brunette snapped, clearly exasperated; she all but stamped her foot.

The blonde squared her jaw and bit the inside of her mouth; her green eyes blazing.

“I didn’t mean being _with_ you makes me weak,” Regina protested. “That’s simply not true; we’re stronger together Emma, you have to believe that I know that.”

“Then, why say it at all? “

“Because,” the mayor sighed heavily, resignation touching her features; “because what I meant was that, Emma you _are_ my weakness.”

“I’m…what?” The saviour asked, confused; it had not been an answer she was expecting.

“After Daniel died I…” Regina started, then paused; searching for the right words. She tried to start again; “Emma, the way I feel about you,” she shook her head. “I know we agreed to think positively about your trip to the past, but if anything were to happen to you-”

“Regina, I get that you’re worried about my trip,” the blonde shrugged. “I do. I’m worried too, but what the hell’s that got to do with what happened tonight?”

“Emma, don’t you see?” The mayor moved then, turning and pacing into the the space between the kitchen and the foyer as she spoke. “If I tell Mal about us, if we tell everyone; it makes it all real.”

“It makes what real?”

“This!” The brunette exclaimed as she turned back to face the blonde and gestured in the space between them. “Us.”

“Regina,” the blonde moved in closer to the brunette, her tone now devoid of any hostility; it was now obvious to her that the other woman was really hurting. She gently took a hold of the mayor’s hands, which seemed cold to the touch. “What it is that’s really worrying you?”

The brunette looked down at their entwined fingers, then brought her watery gaze up to meet the blondes.  

“Me,” Regina swallowed thickly and brushed her thumbs over the blonde’s knuckles.

“You?” Emma searched the brunette’s expression for a beat. “Why?”

“I’m terrified.”

“Of what?”

“Of myself,” Regina dropped her gaze to their hands once more, “of how I feel.”

“About me?”

The brunette nodded softly.

 “Regina,” suddenly Emma got it; that thing that she didn’t understand, it clicked into place and she released the other woman’s hands and instead took a hold of her shoulders. “Look at me,” the brunette acquiesced and the blonde continued. “You are _not_ that woman anymore.”

“Yes, I am.”

Emma shifted to tuck a strand of hair behind the mayor’s ear.

“No,” she shook her head; “you’re not.”

“She’s part of me Emma; I still feel her,” the brunette pressed her cheek into the saviour’s palm, which had now settled against her jaw. “The anger, the pain; it’s all still there.”

“But how you deal with that pain _has_ changed,” the blonde dipped her head to look into the brunette’s eyes. “Of course, your past is still with you,” she shrugged. “If you were never the ‘ _Evil Queen_ ’, then you wouldn’t be the person you are now.” The blonde snaked her fingers underneath Regina’s cloak of dark hair to cup the back of her neck and gently drew her into hug. She felt the other woman melt into her middle and loop her arms around her waist.

“Regina, I’m in love with the woman you are now, and I accept your past,” she placed a kiss to the brunette’s hairline before pulling back and cupping the other woman’s jaw with both hands, “warts and all.”

“Warts?” A watery smile tugged at Regina’s lips. “You know, that was _almost_ romantic.”

“What do you mean almost?” Emma chuckled softly as her thumbs traced over the brunette’s delicate cheekbones. “That was some of my best work, right there.” 

Regina’s expression sobered, her eyes searching the blondes for a beat.

“I love you too,” she finally said, her voice thick with emotion.

“I know,” Emma whispered as she closed the space between them and softly brushed their lips together. “I can feel it.”

And she could.

A warmth coiled itself around her heart; the sensation was heavy in her chest, yet it made the saviour feel weightless. Their mouths pressed together, and their lips parted; their sweet confession of love, quickly escalating into a feverish clash of tongues and teeth. 

The brunette slid her hands into the back pockets of the blonde’s jeans and tugged her in closer; Emma lurched forwards and still locked in a kiss, they stumbled blindly across the darkened hallway.

Regina released a startled moan as her back connected heavily with the door to the basement, but her attention towards the blonde didn’t waiver at the jolt; it only intensified.

Hooking a bare leg around Emma’s denim clad thigh, the brunette grabbed a fistful of blonde locks and drew the saviour in for another searing kiss.

Emma felt like her head was spinning; the kissing wasn’t new, but Regina’s intensity was. After a week full of stolen kisses and gentle caresses, the blonde now realised that the brunette had been purposefully holding her emotions back. Pure, unadulterated _need_ flooded through Regina’s touch into the blonde’s system, entwining with her own escalating desire; and in that moment Emma felt more turned on than she had even been in her entire life.

She trailed her fingers down the brunette’s sides until they reached the hem of her pencil dress and made quick work of bunching the garment up around the other woman’s hips. With the tight fabric of the dress now out of the way, Emma hoisted Regina’s leg upwards to drape over her own hip, before running her fingers teasingly over the smooth skin of the brunette’s exposed thigh.

Regina responded eagerly, grinding down against the blonde’s leg, a deep groan escaping her lips at the newfound friction; a sound which shot straight to the saviour’s core.

Emma needed to hear it again.

She thrust her hips forwards, eliciting a moan against her lips in response.

And again.

The brunette ripped her mouth away from the blondes; her head fell backwards against the wooden door with a soft thud, and she gasped for air; exposing the column of her throat to the saviour’s hungry lips and tongue.

And again.

“Emma,” Regina rasped and pushed at the blonde’s shoulders; Emma pulled back until their foreheads rested together. “Let’s just,” breathless, the brunette swallowed audibly and dipped to place a chaste kiss to the corner of Emma’s lips.

_Don’t’ stop._ Emma internalised, and fearing the other woman was readying to slow things down again, she turned her head to deepen the kiss.

“Emma, stop.”

The blonde felt another gentle push to her shoulders and this time she pulled back, bringing her worried gaze to meet with the brunette’s; the mayor’s stare was resolute, and the sheriff’s concern tripled.

“Regina, I-” Emma stammered, but couldn’t formulate the words.

_I’m ready, I want this, I need this...I want you…_

“Not here,” the brunette finally spoke; her breath hot against Emma’s lips, as she affectionately dipped to nuzzle her nose against the blondes. “Bedroom,” she said breathily, sliding her hiked-up leg back down to the ground. “Now.”

Emma grinned and surged forwards, capturing the other woman’s lips for a final time before taking a hold of her hand, and turning to silently ascend the stairs.

By the time they reached the summit, it was Regina that had grown impatient; she tugged on the blonde’s hand and turned her around, capturing her lips once more. The brunette knew they should take it slowly, that they should savour every moment, however as Emma’s hands shifted to firmly grab her behind, the former queen lost all resolve.

“Which room?” She managed to ask, suddenly realising that she’d never stepped foot in Emma’s bedroom before.

“This way,” the sheriff responded, hastily walking backwards and pulling the brunette with her.

It was awkward, and they stumbled as they moved into the darkened bedroom, causing the door to ricochet off the adjacent wall. They shared a nervous laugh at their ridiculous lack of grace and continued the journey across the carpeted floor. It was all soft smiles and kisses until the back of the saviour’s legs connected with the large bed at the centre of the room; it was instantly sobering.

Their gazes locked for a beat; their chests rising and falling with laboured breaths until finally, Regina made the first move. Reaching for the bottom of the blonde’s white tank, she slowly began to edge it up, over the other woman’s torso; her finger tips blazing a trail across creamy white skin as she moved.

The blonde lifted her arms to allow the garment’s smooth ascension and once the shirt was discarded on the floor, the brunette drunk in the sight before her: Emma was beautiful, the perfect blend of hard muscles and soft curves.

“You’re beautiful,” Regina voiced her thoughts as she gently swept the blonde’s mused hair back from her shoulders and leant in to drop a kiss to a delicate collarbone. “Gorgeous,” she muttered against heated skin, slowly kissing her way up the side of the other woman’s throat. Her nails gently scraped upwards, over the blonde’s exposed ribs and she felt Emma shiver in response.

Their lips met in another kiss, as the brunette’s hands reached their destination and tenderly cupped the blonde’s breasts through the white lace of her bra, eliciting softs moan from both women.

“I want to see you,” Regina whispered against the other woman’s skin, tucking a single finger from each hand into the soft cups of Emma’s bra.

“Not yet,” Emma husked, her lips settling on the sensitive spot where the brunettes jaw met her ear. “You first.”

Regina felt pressure where the blonde’s hands rested against her hips and she dutifully turned around, pulling her dark hair over her left shoulder to allow the blonde access to the zipper on her dress.

Emma drew the zip down slowly, placing soft kisses to the mayor’s neck and shoulders as the dress parted and flawless olive skin was revealed; the weighty fabric of the dress did the rest of the work, it slid down the brunette’s body, to pool in a heap at her feet.

“Fuck,” Emma’s brain short circuited, or at least that’s what it felt like to the blonde as her eyes roamed over the scant, purple-lace thong that in the saviour’s opinion, accentuated the brunette’s curves perfectly.

“Eloquent,” Regina teased, throwing a sultry glance over her shoulder towards the blonde, before elegantly stepping out of her heels and slowly turning around.

The saviour’s fingers twitched at her sides and despite previous concerns about her own inexperience, she couldn’t wait to touch the other woman. Her gaze drifted appreciatively over smooth tanned skin to settle on the barely-there, demicup lace bra through which, the darker skin of the brunette’s areolae was clearly visible.

She reached out a hand to settle on the other woman’s hip, and pulled Regina towards her, relishing in the feeling of the brunette’s soft, warm skin pressing against her own.

As they kissed, Emma’s hands took on a mind of their own; they roamed around the brunette’s hips to squeeze the bare skin of her behind. Her fingers slipped under the taut fabric of the other woman’s thong and traced its path downwards across the soft curve, and lower still, until tell-tale wetness met her fingertips for the first time; her breath caught immediately in her throat at the sensation.

The brunette, a little surprised at Emma’s boldness, released a startled moan; she arched and pressed down into the blonde’s caress, however; the angle was too awkward, the touch too shallow.

Emma felt a soft push to her shoulders and suddenly, she was falling backwards onto the mattress; she landed with a bounce and watched appreciatively as Regina, her hair tousled, and lips swollen, joined her on the bed.

Together, they moved further up the mattress.

“You’re still wearing too many clothes,” the mayor purred into the blonde’s ear as she encouraged her to rest back against the pillows and popped open the button on her jeans.

Emma laid back as the brunette slinked down the bed to remove the boots from her feet; she tossed them onto the floor, before smoothing her hands back up denim clad thighs to plant a kiss to waiting lips.

“Raise your hips for me,” she whispered against Emma’s mouth and the blonde did so, allowing the other woman to pull her jeans down over her hips and legs, before they joined the boots on the floor. “They match,” the brunette said with a teasing smirk, trailing a finger slowly over the waistband of the sheriff’s white lace panties.

“You sound surprised,” Emma smiled back, shifting further up the pillows and drawing the other woman with her.

“I am,” Regina admitted as she moved to straddle the blonde’s hips. “Pleasantly so,” she added as she looped her arms around the other woman’s neck.

“It’s not a regular occurrence,” Emma admitted, as she leaned forwards and captured Regina’s lips with her own.

“Well then,” the brunette pulled away, reaching around her own back for the clasp on her bra. “I must say, I’m honoured.”

Emma however could no longer hear her; it was as though all of her senses were focused entirely on the scrap of lace which covered the brunette’s chest.

Completely aware of the saviour’s attentions, a teasing smile appeared on Regina’s lips as she slowly allowed the lace bra to fall from her body; revelling in the hungry expression her nakedness evoked in the blonde.   

The sheriff’s unexpected confidence reared its head once more; her hands were on Regina’s breasts in an instant. She delighted in the softness of the skin, felt their weight in her hands and the nipples stiffening further beneath her touch. Emma figured right in that moment, that she just might be a breast girl.

The blonde laughed at her own thoughts and slightly embarrassed by her own eagerness, buried her face in the crook of the other woman’s neck.

“What?” Regina enquired breathily, as thoroughly enjoying the saviour’s ministrations, she threaded her fingers through blonde locks.

“Nothing,” Emma mumbled as she nuzzled the brunette’s neck. “Just…”, she ran her thumbs over hardened nipples; “…boobs,” she finally said by way of explanation, dropping her head to place a warm, open-mouthed kiss to the slope of the other woman’s breast.    

Regina chuckled throatily and taking the blondes face in her hands, she kissed away her dopey smile and reached for the convenient front clasp on her bra. As the light material fluttered apart, soft lace was quickly replaced by the warmth of the brunette’s hands; the blonde gasped and gripped at the former queen’s thighs as Reginia expertly kneaded the pliant flesh between her fingers.

“Lay back,” she whispered into the blonde’s ear and as Emma complied wordlessly, Regina slipped her own leg between the blonde’s; she flexed her hips, pressing her bare skin against the damp lace at the apex of the blonde’s thighs.

Capturing Emma’s responding cry with a wet kiss, Regina began to move her own hips in a steady rhythm and felt the blonde counter her thrusts. The brunette gasped as her own clothed sex bumped against the sheriff’s leg, but the friction wasn’t anywhere near enough; she still needed more and could sense that Emma did too.

The blonde released a frustrated groan as the pressure against her centre subsided, her disappointment however quickly turned to anticipation as the brunette’s lips began their journey south. Emma writhed against the pillows as Regina peppered her chest with kisses and scraped her teeth across already sensitive nipples; the blonde was unsure as to whether it was their magical link or not, but the brunette was doing absolutely everything right.

When the brunette’s lips reached lace and her fingers slipped beneath the waistband of Emma’s panties, the blonde held her breath…but nothing happened. Confused, she raised her head from the pillows and peered down her own torso to be met by questioning brown eyes.

“Yes,” the saviour answered the former queen’s unspoken question, her head falling back heavily against the pillows. “God, yes.”

Regina wasted no time; the blonde’s back arched sharply from the bed as the brunette placed an open mouth kiss to her lace covered centre. Within seconds, the saviour’s underwear was peeled from her body, exposing her completely to the former queen’s gaze.

“Beautiful,” Regina repeated, as she gracefully climbed back up the other woman’s body. Moving to rest her weight on her left side, the brunette’s free hand gently pressed at Emma’s inner thighs before she hooked a bare leg around the blondes, opening the saviour wider and leaving her entirely at the mayor’s mercy.

The first swipe of the brunette’s fingers through Emma’s wetness coincided with the hungriest of kisses and the blonde nearly peaked there and then; a flailing hand rose and gripped at the other woman’s arm in an effort to ground herself against a wave of pleasure, which threatened to push her over the edge.

Regina stilled herself too; a wave of arousal sparked right to her core at the feeling of Emma’s warmth surrounding her fingers.

The brunette quickly regained her focus, however sensing the blonde’s sensitivity, kept her touch light and teasing; soon enough, the saviour’s hips began to buck against her hand, craving more pressure.

Languid kisses to the blonde’s lips and neck matched the pace of the mayor’s exploring digits, and just when Emma thought she couldn’t take the slow torture anymore, the brunette’s fingers dipped lower and in one fluid movement, filled her completely.

“Fuck,” the blonde cursed loudly at the welcomed intrusion, her head pressing back into the pillows, her hips countering the brunette’s steady thrusts. She pulled at Regina’s arms and shoulders, drawing her closer, needing to feel more of her skin and the former queen quickly complied, feeling the desperation herself.

Shifting her weight on top of the blonde, the brunette used her hips to power her movements; the heel of her palm adding pressure to where the blonde needed it most, whilst her knuckles bumped against her own wanting sex.     

They escalated quickly, their movements becoming more and more desperate; their coordination thrown to the wind as they selfishly chased their own release…

“Oh, God! Regina I’m-” Emma was the first over the edge, crying out as she came; her thighs tightening reflexively around the other woman’s hips, unintentionally restricting her movement.

“Emma-” two, somewhat reduced thrusts of her hips later, Regina joined the blonde; collapsing forward, her forehead landing against the saviour’s sweaty shoulder, as her orgasm turned her supporting limbs to jelly.

Seconds past; the brunette’s hand was still trapped between their bodies and quickly the increased pressure against her lower abdomen became uncomfortable for Regina. Rolling onto her side, she gently removed her fingers, eliciting another whimper from the blonde, who was still recovering on the mattress beside her.

The brunette laid back and stared at the ceiling, catching her breath; her wet fingers resting lightly against her stomach.

“That was…” Emma was the first to speak but couldn’t quite get her words out to finish the sentence.

“Right,” Regina concurred, turning her head on the pillow to take in the sight of the post-coital blonde, her chest rising and falling, an arm thrown over her eyes, and a glowing blush radiating from her bare skin.

The saviour laughed at the brunette’s knowing response and peeped out at her from underneath her own arm; Regina caught her shy gaze and laughed.

“Are you quite alright?” She asked, a teasing smile on her lips as she rolled onto her side to face the blonde.

“I’m spent,” Emma laughed again, finally flopping her arm down onto the mattress and beckoning the other woman towards her.

“I do hope not,” Regina purred, curling into the blonde’s side and twirling her finger teasingly over the blonde’s breast. “The night is still young, and I have plans for you yet, Miss Swan.”

The brunette’s use of her moniker for the blonde coincided with a gentle tug to a sensitive nipple, and the Emma felt a resounding throb between her legs.

“You know what?” The saviour turned her head to glance at the brunette, smirking brightly; “I think I’m good.” She suddenly surged upwards, and the brunette yelped as she was pushed onto her back and quickly straddled, Emma’s bare sex resting distractingly against her bare stomach.

The blonde grinned down at the squirming brunette and received a playful swat to the arm in response.

Laughing, the saviour stared down at the stunning brunette beneath her; her olive skin was flushed with heat, her rich, dark hair fanned out over the pillows and she was smiling up at Emma like she didn’t have a care in the world.

_I caused that._ The blonde’s heart swelled in her chest. _I make her happy._

“I’m really good,” Emma reaffirmed, as she leant down to capture the brunette’s full lips in an impassioned, emotion-laden kiss.

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nervously awaiting your feedback…


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello loyal readers *waves*.
> 
> I know I sound like a broken record, but apologies again for my tardiness. 
> 
> The truth is, pregnancy brain really is a thing and I can’t concentrate for shit.   
> Regina might have found herself accidently poofing into flowerbeds in this story, but give it a few months and like me she’ll be leaving the house with her dress inside out (true story); the struggle is real, people.
> 
> Anyhow, for the observant among you, you may notice that the teaser I shared with you two posts ago is actually from this chapter. It’s not entirely the same as I had removed spoilers from my earlier post…but if you read it and think you recognise it, you aren’t going mad. 
> 
> If you’re reading this through for the first time however…then please just ignore the above.
> 
> Thanks heaps to Loweze for the beta and to Renbean for the constant encouragement (note that this time I didn’t call it nagging ;)) xxx

** Chapter 30 **

“Emma,” Regina groaned in frustration; squirming under the languid attention of the blonde’s exploring fingers and tongue. “You’re torturing me.”

“I’m learning,” came the partially mumbled response, the vibrations of which caused the former queen’s hips to jerk from the mattress.

Several hours had passed since Regina appeared on the saviour’s door step, yet neither woman showed signs of letting up. Emma wasn’t entirely sure if that was an exceptional achievement for two women, but regardless, it was a definite first for her…one of many firsts so far that night, in fact.  

“I think we’ve already established that you’re a- oh! Gods,“ the brunette gasped, her back arching from the bed as Emma grazed over particularly sensitive flesh with her teeth.

“I’m a God?” the blonde smirked into the other woman’s bare thigh, placing a kiss there.

“A quick study,” Regina found her words, before winding her fingers through Emma’s tangled blonde hair and giving it a playful tug. “So, stop teasing.”

With a chuckle, the blonde acquiesced; her own sex pulsing in anticipation of feeling the other woman’s pleasure coursing into her system. It wasn’t as intense as being on the receiving end of an orgasm, but the emotional rush the sheriff had received when she first drove the brunette over the edge, had brought her close enough.

The saviour couldn’t be certain if it was due to their connection or not, but they both seemed so in sync with each other; despite the blonde’s earlier concerns, Regina had proved very responsive to her every touch.

Emma upped the tempo of her ministrations and the soft, appreciative sounds which fell from the brunette’s lips resulted in a steady throb between the blonde’s own thighs; it had been a complete surprise to the saviour, just how vocal the usually buttoned up Mayor was in bed.

It was a sound that Emma would never grow tired of hearing.

As Regina neared climax and the chorus moans became louder, the blonde’s own impatience grew; her spare hand snaked southwards and she greedily began to chase another orgasm of her own.

“Hello?”

In that moment, the saviour was so entirely focussed on their joint release that she _almost_ didn’t hear the cheery call from downstairs.

“Emma?”

_What the shit?!_

At the sound of her mother entering the house, the saviour’s rhythm instantly faltered, and she froze; sheer panic rising in her chest.

“Don’t Stop,” the brunette panted desperately from above the blonde, her hips canting upwards against the saviour’s unmoving mouth in an attempt to keep up their pace.

“Emma, it’s Mom, are you here?”  

“Don’t stop!” Regina begged again, clutching at Emma’s hair and thrusting downward onto the blonde’s static fingers. “Don’t you dare stop! I’m-“ with a resounding cry (that Emma was sure would be heard for miles), the former queen came; her legs clamping tightly around the saviour’s ears as she rode out the waves of pleasure.

Despite the fear of being caught (or maybe even because of it), the blonde experienced another shuddering orgasm of her own; the force of which took her completely by surprise. She too cried out, however her moans were (thankfully) muffled somewhat by the location of the other woman’s thighs.

Eventually, once Regina’s grip around the saviour’s head loosened and her legs fell limply down to the mattress, Emma was able to hear the screeching of car tyres coming from outside of the house.

_Crap…_

The saviour’s cheeks coloured as she gently extricated herself from between Regina’s legs and a quick glance over her shoulder confirmed to her that the bedroom door was indeed wide open. As she crawled back up the bed, she raised a disapproving eyebrow at the smirking brunette beneath her.

“What?” Regina asked, poorly feigning innocence, before she tugged the blonde down for a messy, yet languid kiss.

“You know ‘ _what_ ’,” Emma muttered as she rolled to rest against the brunette’s side; her face nuzzled into the crook of the other woman’s neck and her still, wet fingers resting against the soft curve of her abdomen. 

“Do you think she heard us?” Regina kept up the façade, a teasing lilt to her voice.

“I think people in the next town might have heard _you_ ,” Emma teased, tickling the brunette’s ribs light heartedly. “You were definitely louder that time.”

“What can I say?” Regina half-heartedly squirmed away from the swirling of the blonde’s finger tips against her side. “I love a performance.”

Emma propped herself up on her elbow and peered down at the smug looking brunette, narrowing her eyes.

“You’re terrible.”

“Me?” Regina countered, fixing the blonde with an incredulous glare. “Your mother should learn to knock,” she closed her eyes and settled back against the pillows. “That’s the second time she’s interrupted us.”

“Well,” the blonde tilted her head thoughtfully. “I guess I can’t argue with you there,” Emma shrugged as she lay back against the other woman’s side, drawing the crumpled bedsheets from the foot of the bed up with her. “It’s just embarrassing,” she groaned, nudging Regina’s neck with her nose.

“Snow’s a big girl,” the brunette said, stifling a yawn and patting the blonde’s hand which had snaked back under the sheets to settle at her waist. “She’ll get over it.”

_That’s great,_ Emma thought as she hazarded a glance at the bedside clock. _I’m not sure I will._

_Crap._

More time had passed than the saviour had thought; they really needed to call their son before it got much later. Henry had already opted to spend the night at his grandparent’s loft. He’d said that it was to allow his mother’s some alone time before Emma left for the past, however based on the grossed-out expressions the kid had been making every time he saw even the slightest bit of affection between his parents, the saviour was sure his decision wasn’t entirely altruistic.

“It’s getting late; why don’t you try to get some sleep?” She suggested, sensing the brunette’s sudden exhaustion. “I’ll call mom back and check on Henry.”

“M’kay,” Regina mumbled lazily, as she turned onto her side and pulled the blonde with her. “Just one more minute,” she drew Emma’s hand to her chest and secured it against her skin.

“Okay,” the saviour chuckled and placed a kiss to Regina’s shoulder; wondering if she would ever stop being surprised by the feisty brunette’s desire to snuggle. “Just one more minute.”

xXx

Ten minutes later, Emma gently detangled herself from the sleeping mayor, donned a pair of shorts and a tank top and crept out of the bedroom onto the darkened landing.

As she turned to close the door behind her, the saviour felt a warmth spreading through her chest at the sight of the gorgeous brunette curled up asleep in her bed.

_Holy crap. Regina’s in my bed._

It all still seemed surreal to the blonde; just a few months ago, she was mourning the loss of Killian and now…Emma was happier than she could ever remember being.

The blonde had everything she had ever hoped for; everything her orphaned heart had ever desired. Granted, the family package she’d been dealt was a little more unconventional than her younger self had imagined, but still, it was perfect all the same.

As the saviour descended to the ground floor, the first thing to catch her eye left no question as to whether or not Snow had heard Regina’s ‘ _performance_ ’; the mayor’s coat, which she had arrived without, was now draped over the bottom of Emma’s banister.

_That’s just great._

The saviour came to a pause at the bottom of the stairs and hung her head in acknowledgement of the awkward conversation that was now to come.

Despite having been friends first and of a similar age to her mother, since discovering their familial connection, there was just something about discussing sex with Snow which made Emma want to run for the hills; even the thought of it seem to surface her inner teenager.  

Unfortunately, the ever-persistent school teacher did not appear to feel the same way and despite several occurrences when Emma had pleaded with her mother to ‘ _for the love of God, please stop_ ’ - Snow White continued to be somewhat ‘over-sharey.’

With a sigh, Emma trudged across the foyer to the kitchen, where her own jacket still hung over the back of a dining chair and pulled her cell phone from the pocket.

_Four missed calls, two voicemails and two messages on WhatsApp_

All within the last hour.

Emma rolled her eyes. 

If they were from anyone other than her mother, then having that many missed messages would have been cause for concern.

Reluctantly, the blonde called her voicemail; a grimace on her lips as she held the device against her ear.

_“Hi Emma, it’s mom. Just wondering where you and Regina have gotten to. The rest of the rehearsal went well. Call me.”_

_“Hi Emma, it’s mom again. Where are you both? Why aren’t either of you answering your phones? *Sigh* I’m coming over. I have Regina’s coat. Call me.”_

_Well shit,_ Emma thought, as she hung up the phone and reluctantly opened WhatsApp, _it’s not like she didn’t warn us…_

Both messages had been sent within the last 15 minutes.

**_MOM (20:50): Any chance you two lovebirds can meet us all for a Granny’s breakfast tomorrow at 10?_ **

**_MOM (20:51): ;)_ **

Emma cringed at the ‘ _winking face_ ’, however was pleased that at least for the time being, she could avoid having a verbal conversation with her mother. A smirk touched her lips as she realised that Regina would now also be present for the inevitable awkwardness.

_And it serves her right…_

The blonde eagerly typed in her response:

**EMMA (21:05) Sorry I missed your calls. Breakfast sounds great! See you all then :)**

**_MOM (21:05): I understand; you were both otherwise engaged ;) ;)._ **

_Oh my God! Stop with the winking faces!_

**_MOM (21:06) And what on earth happened to Mrs Hubbard’s gladioli’s?_ **

**_MOM (21:06) Or don’t I want to know? ;)_ **

Emma sighed heavily at her mom’s teasing and started towards the front door; not surprisingly, she’d actually forgotten all about her neighbour’s trampled flowerbed.

The rain had long since subsided, but the cold air which blew over the saviour’s exposed legs as she opened the front door, reminded her of her current state of undress. Deciding that she couldn’t be bothered to go back inside and grab her jacket however, the sheriff wrapped her arms around her torso and stepped out onto the porch.

Her presence outside illuminated the security light and allowed her to survey the damage caused by the mayor’s stilettos up close.

_Jesus, Regina._

It hadn’t been a clean landing, that was for sure. Emma chuckled to herself; a wicked part of her was sad that she’d missed it.  

The damage caused although considerable, wasn’t anything that couldn’t be fixed with magic.

With simple wave of the blonde’s hand, Mrs Hubbard’s gladioli were restored to their usual glory and despite being alone, the saviour nodded proudly at the corrected foliage.

Just as Emma was about to return to the warmth of the house and call Henry to wish him goodnight, something else caught her eye; it stopped her dead in her tracks.

The moon.

It was almost full.

Emma felt her gut drop; the fact that she was leaving in just over 24 hours coming down on her like a tonne of bricks.

Of course, it wasn’t a surprise; far from it. The blonde had known the day was looming, yet to be jerked back so aggressively from her emotional high was daunting.

_I have everything I’ve ever wanted…and tomorrow I’m risking it all._  

For the first time since agreeing to go, Emma felt the full weight of that decision on her shoulders.

_Everybody’s happiness depends on my success._

The blonde stumbled backwards and took a seat on the porch bench; unfazed by the feel of the cold metal against the back of her bare legs, she looked accusatorily up at the moon, as if it already knew her fate.

Closing her eyes against its glare, she swallowed down the coiling dread in her stomach and inhaled slowly; after several deep breaths, Emma felt the panic begin to subside and logic take a hold.

_This doesn’t change a thing._

She opened her eyes.

The odds where still on her side. She’d done this before, she knew what to expect, she understood the rules of the game.  

Emma got to her feet and looked down at Mrs Hubbard’s flowerbed – proof that the blonde now had a better hold on her magic.

“It’s a good plan,” the saviour spoke firmly; words of encouragement for her own ears, “and it’s gonna work.”

_Failure is not an option._

With newly mustered determination, Emma turned back towards the house, silently vowing to spend as much time before her trip enjoying the company of the people she loved; starting with the beautiful brunette in her bed.

xXx

Several hours later, Regina stood in the shadows by the bedroom window, looking out across the moonlit back yard. Her bloodshot gaze mapped the movement of a line of conifer trees; their branches appearing to sway in time with her every breath.

The brunette shut her eyes and wetness pooled behind closed lids; she drew several deep breaths and waited for the hammering inside of her chest to calm.

Regina had awoken in a state of panic.

Nine whole days had flown by within the blink of an eye and now, Storybrooke was approaching dawn on the day the former queen had been dreading.

Emma was leaving.

The brunette’s hands rested protectively over her bare abdomen, her fingers delicately tracing the hardening bump above her pubic bone; although imperceptible to the eye, she could feel her body was already changing.

_It will all be worth it…_

Regina scoffed bitterly into the darkness; she wished she could believe that, just as Emma did.

_But good things don’t happen to bad people._

Earlier that night, the saviour had finally uttered the words which Regina had being longing to hear…

_Emma loves me, despite my past._

Yet now that the brunette was alone with her thoughts, the saviour’s words caused a sinking feeling to form in her gut.

_It’s not real._

How could a girl raised in a land without magic ever fully comprehend the amount of pain and suffering Regina had inflicted on her subjects throughout her reign?

The blonde may have thought she’d glimpsed the queen’s darkness on her last visit to the past, but Regina knew that was just the tip of a very large, very bloody iceberg. 

Emma may have forgiven the former queen for her past sins, but truly, the saviour had no idea what she was forgiving.

Regina prayed that for the blonde’s sake, she would never find out. 

_My actions were unforgivable._

Movement from behind the brunette pulled her from her internal plight and her sorrowful gaze drifted over her shoulder, to settle on the unmade bed.

Moonlight filtered in through the window’s slatted blinds; the light forming a pattern over sleep rumpled bedding and the pale foot, which poked out from beneath the blankets.

The former queen’s gaze travelled upward, to the mass of unruly blonde hair, which fanned out across her lover’s bare shoulders. The sleeping blonde’s skin practically shimmered in the moonlight and it beckoned Regina’s touch.

_Before we’re worlds apart…_

With a soft sigh, the brunette padded back across the room and slipped beneath the covers. Gently sweeping Emma’s hair to one side, she placed a soft kiss to her shoulder, before laying her head on the adjacent pillow.

The dip in the mattress roused the sleeping saviour and she turned, wrapping her limbs around the brunette’s petite frame, sighing softy into her sleep tousled, dark hair.

Regina shivered.

“You’re cold,” the saviour observed, her voice thick with sleep as she shifted her body closer to the other woman; the toned muscles of the blonde’s abdomen now rested against the smooth skin of the brunette’s bare hip. “What time is it?”

“It’s still early,” Regina craned her neck to place a kiss to the blonde’s brow. “Go back to sleep.”

“Okay,” Emma muttered, giving the brunette a gentle squeeze. “You too.”

The former queen held her breath as she struggled to keep a rein on her emotions; Emma didn’t need to feel her pain, there was no sense in causing the other woman to worry.

_Is it enough that Emma ‘thinks’ she loves me?_

Feeling the tell-tale prickle of tears forming in her eyes, the brunette turned, drawing the blonde’s arm around her as she moved. Emma instantly moulded herself to Regina’s back and her right hand drifted down to rest against the curve of the brunette’s abdomen.

The former queen felt her own heart swell in response and the tears she’d tried so hard to hold back, now streaked silently down her cheeks and fell to the pillow.

Maleficent’s words from earlier that week ringing true in her mind.

“ _I don’t think people like us can ever be truly happy; to be happy would be to forget all of the terrible things we’ve done.”_

As the Emma’s breathing levelled out, the brunette relaxed back into the embrace and finally allowed her insecurities to be soothed. Pure adoration flowed from the blonde in droves; the saviour’s love wrapped itself around the brunette’s fragile heart, but this time, Emma’s power wasn’t enough.

The former queen’s heart was still breaking.

The brunette moved her hand to rest over the saviour’s, at her waist; pressing the other woman’s fingers closer to her skin.

_This is enough. As long as Emma is happy, it’s enough._

“I love you,” Regina whispered into the darkness.

_Please come back to us…_

xXx

Emma awoke early the next morning to an empty bed.

She groaned, closing her eyes against the invasive light which penetrated the bedroom blinds, and planted her face into the pillow on which Reginia had slept; it still smelt faintly of the other woman’s shampoo.

The mattress beside the blonde was still warm, indicating that the brunette had not been up for long and the soft sounds coming from downstairs confirmed that the mayor was at least, still in the building.

Emma turned onto her back and stretched. She felt the tug of muscles she’d put to good use during last night’s activities and smiled dopily to herself; last night had been amazing.

Regina had been amazing.

Not to toot her own horn, but Emma was pretty damn impressed with her performance as well.

Despite knowing that today was the day she would be leaving, the saviour felt happy - like, nauseatingly happy. Emma had spent the former part of the past month worrying about admitting her feelings for another woman and the later part worrying about being intimate with one. Now that she’d successfully ticked both items off her list with amazing results, she felt all together lighter.

She snuggled down further into the blankets, sheltering herself from the emotional day ahead.

The scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the open bedroom door, tempting the blonde to join the brunette downstairs and she kicked the covers back with a sigh; she wished she could stay in her blissful domestic bubble with Regina forever.

Regina, Henry and the baby.

In her mind’s eye, the saviour conjured images of what a future like that might look like; family outings to the zoo, trips to the beach, birthdays…

Family.

_My family._

As the smell of toast joined the scent of coffee, Emma followed her nose and rose to a seated position, wincing slightly at the tell-tale soreness between her legs; it was a welcome reminder of yet another benefit of a future with Regina.

_All in all, it’s a future worth fighting for._

xXx

The sight that met the saviour once she finally ventured downstairs in her tank top and shorts, was a welcome one.

Regina, wearing nothing but one of Emma’s oversized t-shirts was surveying the contents of the refrigerator.

“Good morning,” Emma announced, casually leaning her shoulder against the wall at the entrance to the kitchen and crossing her arms over her chest.  

The brunette jumped and spun around; a half-eaten piece of toast was hanging from her mouth and she looked at Emma like she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

Emma laughed and pushed off the wall, moving towards the other woman with a teasing expression on her face.

“You do realise we’re going out for breakfast?”

“Sorry,” Regina mumbled guiltily around a mouthful of toast and closed the refrigerator door. “I couldn’t wait.”

“Oh, that’s okay,” the blonde soothed as she wrapped her arms around the brunette’s slender waist and pulled her in close; placing a kiss to her crumb covered lips. “We’re not meeting Henry and my parents until 10.”

“10, huh?” Regina glanced up at the clock which read a little after 8am. “Well, in that case,” she looped her arms around the blonde’s neck, still holding the buttery piece of toast between her fingers. “I may also have eggs too,” she fixed Emma with a sultry smile. “I’m sure I’ll be hungry again by 10; pregnant or not, I appear to have worked up quite the appetite.”

“That makes two of us,” Emma leaned in for another kiss and gave the Regina’s rear a squeeze for good measure; the brunette released a surprised, yet appreciative moan against the blonde’s lips in response.

“Okay, Madam Mayor,” the saviour reluctantly pulled away from the other woman and reopened the refrigerator door. “How do you like your eggs in the morning?”

xXx

Stepping under the shower spay, Regina sighed; she revelled in the feeling of the hot water soaking through her hair and running over her aching shoulders. She’d given herself quite the workout over the past 12 hours and with the pregnancy, her energy levels weren’t what they used to be. 

The brunette made quick work of shampooing her hair, before coating on the conditioner and reaching for a bottle of shower gel; she inhaled the fruity scent and felt her body start to unwind.

To Regina’s surprise, she felt incredibly comfortable being in the blondes living space. Magical crusades and electrocution aside, this morning was the first time the mayor had awoken in a bed other than one of her own, since long before arriving in Storybrooke.

She and Robin always opted to spend the night at the mansion instead of his tent and Graham…well, there wasn’t really any ‘sleeping’ involved at all in their ‘arrangement’.

She poured a generous amount of soap into the palm of her hand worked it into a rich lather; smiling to herself at the concept of smelling like Emma for the rest of the day.

_Emma…_

The past hours she had spent with the saviour had been better than Regina ever could have ever imagined; for two people that were so incredibly different, they were a perfect fit for each other in every sense of the word.  

As the brunette smoothed the soap suds over her shoulders and torso, she was pulled from her daydream with a wince; her breasts were incredibly sore. The hormonal breast tenderness (along with her morning sickness) had eased off over the past week, only to come back with a vengeance, apparently.

Her hands moved instinctively down to her belly and she gently rubbed the area just above her pubic bone; Regina was around 11 weeks pregnant now and that tiny, hard bulge was the only sign she had that everything was progressing as normal.   

Along with everything else that was going on, it was of constant concern to the brunette that her early attempts to end the pregnancy may have caused issues with the baby.

_The potion could have untold consequences; deformities, developmental issues, magical imbalances…_

What if something was wrong? Could she live with herself if her child had to suffer forever because of her own impulsive actions?

The mayor knew that there were machines in this world that could provide moving images of the baby in utero; they could detect a whole host of anomalies and even produce photographs of her to keep.

Dr Whale had booked Regina in to attend one such scan appointment in a week’s time, but truthfully, the very idea filled her with sense of dread. Every time she walked into that hospital, the former queen was reminded that she was at the mercy of her former subjects; they would rather see her head roll than care for her unborn child, of that much she was sure.  

The brunette tilted her head backwards into the shower spray; her fingers gliding through her wet locks to remove the sweet-smelling conditioner.

_If only Emma could come to the scan…_

The brunette thought back fondly to the night several weeks ago, when the sheriff had turned up drunk at their hotel room, intent of talking Regina out of having her abortion.

Somewhere between the blonde’s search for snacks in the minibar and the recounting of an abortion scene from the 80’s movie Dirty Dancing (and subsequent rendition of a famous song from said movie), Emma had promised to be there for every single hospital appointment.

‘ _You don’t have to do this alone, Regina; any of it.’_

That conversation had been a turning point for Regina; not only in her decision to keep the baby, but it had been the first time that she had admitted to herself that she harboured feelings for the irksome blonde.

Now however, with the saviour journeying to the past, Regina knew that she would probably end up taking Snow with her to the first scan.

The former queen sighed and turned off the shower.

The teacher would no doubt be unbearably giddy about the whole thing, but even attending the scan with an overly gleeful and most likely blubbering Snow White, was better than facing it alone.

_Next time,_ the brunette told herself as she reached outside the cubicle for a towel from the rail. _Emma **will** be there. _

xXx

Whilst Regina showered in the ensuite, Emma had gotten ready in Henry’s bathroom. The two women could have enjoyed their shower together, had their inability to keep their hands to themselves over breakfast not already resulted in them being late to meet the rest of the family.

As the blonde was the first to be showered and dressed, she headed back downstairs to make a start on clearing up the mess they had made in the kitchen. Swiping everything off the table before depositing Regina on top of it had seemed a romantic gesture at the time, but now, as the blonde looked down at the broken crockery, scrabbled egg and butter smearing the tiles, a grimace touched her lips.

_Thank God for magic._

Just as the saviour as readied herself to begin a ‘Mary Poppins’ style clean up, the doorbell rang.

_Who in the hell?_

Emma didn’t get many visitors and her family were already waiting for them at Granny’s.

_Sales person? Religious call?_ Emma wondered as she neared the door. _Either way, I’m not buying._

She swung the door open, only to be greeted by somebody far worse than any travelling pedlar. 

“Gold,” she said flatly, throwing a cautious glance over her shoulder and up the stairs to where Regina was due emerge from the bedroom any minute.

“Miss Swan,” he smiled thinly, his top lip curling to reveal the very tips of his crooked teeth.

“What are you doing here?”

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

“No,” the blonde responded simply, without explanation. “And I asked what you were doing here.”

“I heard that you’d left the rehearsal early last night.”

“News travels fast,” she cocked her jaw. “What’s it to you?”

“I’m simply dropping by to ensure you aren’t planning on backing out of our plan,” Gold crossed his arms over his chest. “We have a deal.”

“Right; the deal was that IF you help me go back in time, I’ll deliver your document,” Emma shrugged. “Therefore, If I don’t go back, there’s no deal.”

Gold’s lips settled into a thin line and he paled slightly; Emma’s eyes narrowed in response.

“Why the hell’s it so important to you that I go?” 

_What the hell is in that document he wants me to deliver?_

“Emma?” Regina calling out from inside the house interrupted the blonde’s interrogation and Gold’s eyebrows retreated to his hairline; his gaze travelling over the saviour’s shoulder and up the stairs towards the source of the voice.

“The Mayor’s here,” it wasn’t a question and his all-knowing expression unnerved the sheriff. “I trust she’s feeling better?”

“That’s none of your damn business,” Emma said through gritted teeth, as she pulled the door closer into her body, blocking the pawnbrokers view inside the house. “The plan for tonight hasn’t changed,” she confirmed, raising her eyebrows expectantly. “Was there anything else?”

“No, that will be all. Thank you, Miss Swan,” the pawnbroker nodded, and took a step backwards from the door to begin his retreat. “I will see you at the barn as planned,” he turned and descended the porch steps. “Don’t be late.”

Emma released the breath she had been holding and shut the door, but her relief was short lived; she turned to see Regina appearing on the landing with wet hair, wearing nothing but her towel and a panic-stricken expression.

“Who was that?” The brunette asked, pulling her towel tighter around herself and looking around the entrance hall for a potential guest.

“Salesman,” Emma lied, taking a step towards the staircase. The mayor didn’t need to know how keen Gold was for their plan to work; she would only worry. “What is it?” She asked, concern twisting in her belly. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I think something’s wrong,” the brunette wrung her hands together; her anxiety flooding from every pore.

“Regina what is it?” The blonde climbed the stairs to join the other woman on the landing. 

“It’s the baby,” Regina wrapped her arms around her own midriff. “Emma, I’m bleeding.”

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know. Cliff-hanger. What a bitch, right? 
> 
> Thanks for reading and as always, I’d love to read your thoughts (and tips on writing with baby brain are also welcomed).

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading - chapter 2 will be up soon.


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